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My Family Would Never Survive the Apocalypse
And I already see the signs.
A warning: I’ve been reading too much doomsay — everything from how to survive nuclear war to low-key conspiracy theories that the people in power really do want to kill a good portion of us off — and it’s affecting my mind space a little. (Or, well, a lot. It’s that kind of week.)
In the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, people liked to joke that we were entering the first phase of a modern-day apocalypse. I brushed off that irresponsible branding of a global crisis, but — as stores emptied and “necessities” like toilet paper became scarce — I came to a stark realization.
My family would never survive the apocalypse.
Imagine, if you will, that you are in a scenario like any recent disaster movie. Take your pick: anything zombie-related (I’m partial to I Am Legend) to catastrophic events (2012) to alien invasion and beyond. And you know how we always seem to follow these plucky, plot-armor-enshrouded family units? Yeah, my family would be the extras who are killed off in the first twenty minutes.
What has made me accept my fate? Well…
Back when the pandemic started — in those days when rumors spread in the United States that martial law would be invoked at any moment — I saw how the strain…
