By Rebecca Todd
— If you're reading this, congratulations; you have survived the Mayan apocalypse. Well, at least the initial day. From here on out you can expect earthquakes, volcanoes, attacks by packs of wild dogs, hurricanes and tsunamis, not necessarily in that order.
Of course, you probably knew that since you probably had to dodge a volcano and fight a pack of wild dogs to get your hands on this newspaper, and you will probably have to burn it for heat immediately after reading it. But read it you must, as I am here to provide you with valuable survival tips.
Here's my first tip for you: run out into the street screaming and panicking. Yell, "The end is here! The end is here! Save yourself!" Go ahead. I'll wait while you finish step one. Come back when you're done.
There! Feel better? It's best to get that out of your system. I hope the wild dogs didn't get to you.
Now, wipe the ash and lava off and let's get down to business. First you need to take inventory. Go down into your bomb shelter or up to your safe room and we'll take a count of ...
What? You don't have a bomb shelter or safe room? Oh, dear. That does pose a problem. This could be tougher than I thought.
Okay, so no safe shelter. I don't mind telling you, I'm a little disappointed in you. But let's just move on to your food supply. I assume you have been hoarding canned goods and non-perishables over the past couple of years as the doomsday foretellers told you to, so let's start there and see how many ...
No? You haven't been hoarding in preparation for the apocalypse? You should be ashamed. And you will be in a couple of weeks when you are wrestling with wild dogs over the last Twinkie in Indiana just so you can feed your starving family. Of course, that was going to happen with or without the Mayan apocalypse, thanks to the recent Hostess apocalypse.
So you have no safe shelter and you will soon have no food. I have to tell you, it's not looking good. Your only last hopes are water and heat. Now please tell me you at least took the time to purchase a water purification system and stockpiled at least six months worth of fresh water.
NO? Well, I'm not surprised. You are not prepared for this thing at all. Dare I ask if you have plenty of firewood? I thought not. Then I guess it is fortunate that this happened during the Christmas season. While all those electronics you have wrapped up under the tree are now useless, the tree itself could be your most valuable asset at this point. Looks like you will have to drink the tree water and start chopping the tree up for kindling ...
Don't tell me you bought an artificial tree!
I must say, this is the last straw. You are back to step one. It is time to run into the streets and panic again.
Unless you go with Plan B. It's the only thing you can do at this point. Don't worry; I think it could save you.
Plan B, in a nutshell: Enjoy a Merry Christmas with your family and make it the happiest new year of your life.
This is the plan I'm using. I'm pretty sure it's going to work out just fine.
- Rebecca Todd is a freelance writer and the author of the book "What's the Point?" available at booklocker.com. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.