My calling for the Apocalypse is to be the first person killed. Possibly by my own people.
So, for example, during the Apocalypse, after some of the adults have run into the Kwik-E-Mart and stolen all the candy bars for food, I’ll be like,
“Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t get any ALMONDS? You guys are gonna be sugared up MESSES. Your blood sugar is gonna spike and then you won’t even be able to THINK CLEARLY about how we’re all gonna get out of this MALL we’re trapped in!”
Bang. I’m dead.
I went to this really cool camp when I was a kid called Cragged Mountain Farm. It had no electricity or running water in the cabins, and we’d go out on 3-4 day camping and canoeing trips. Bottom line: I know how to build a fire. So, I’d probably like to contribute that skill during the Apocalypse. Unfortunately, I’m sure there will be some IDIOT who thinks HE’S the best fire builder (just because he’s a guy). This is how that would go down:
STRONG MUSCULAR GUY: <building fire>
ME: You’re going to need more kindling and more AIR under the wood.
Bang. I’m dead.
The last thing (that I’m going to write about. Trust me, I could write an entire SERIES about what could get me killed during an Apocalypse) would be my constant making “jokes” at the end of important meetings, you know, just to lighten the mood a bit. That’s hilarious if you’re in a 2-hour meeting with twenty other women at non-profit organization, but if you’re trying to SURVIVE? Not so cute.
MAN1: We need to get to the roof.
MAN2: First we should make sure the barricade on the door is tight, so they can’t get in.
WOMAN1: If one of us goes down there, it’s just going to AGITATE the Zombies (or, whomever) ((Oh, there’s another reason I’ll be killed; I’ll use words like “whomever.”)).
ME: Let’s send STRONG MUSCULAR GUY. The candy bars are giving him the most foul smelling gas and he sucks at fire building.