My sweet partner is convinced it is inevitable. Just between you and me, I think she has not-so-deeply-buried yearnings for just such a dramatic catastrophe. And to hear her tell it, she thinks she's beat the inevitable disintegration of life as we know it...by partnering with me.
I don't know if you've heard much chatter about the zombie apocalypse? It is a bit of a pop culture phenomenon; a feral threat of biology run amok as infected humans die, destroy, and, as far as I can tell, all hell breaks lose as humans self-destruct. I'm not so hip on all the details since Zombies just haven't been my genre. But, Teri finds it all quite appealing.
As she tells it, her biggest fear is that I might somehow get the face-melting, flesh-chomping bug and she'll have to cut off my head with one of our sharpened Cutco knives and, as she adds, that would be a darn shame since she figures if she can keep me alive, we've got it made with our canned goods, the homemade bread, and my skill for making a gourmet meal out of 1 cup of rice, a can of olives and a jar of fig preserves. Truly, I can throw down with a leanly stocked pantry.
I'm learning to work this whole Zombie Armageddon to my advantage, even though I think we're likely to blow ourselves up or torch the earth with chemicals and seeping plastics before any sort of march of human dead-eaters takes control. When Teri balks at my purchasing 3 more dozen boxes of canning jars, or tries to put her foot down when I mention learning how to dehydrate cherries, I tell her it's all part of our survival strategy. Although, I sort of suspect if we have to head for the hills, we won't be traveling very lightly with two tons of canned tomatoes and applesauce strapped to the roof of our P.T. Cruiser...