The fire alarm went off in my apartment building tonight and I hurriedly grabbed my computer, without the mouse, and my travel jewelry case, along with my wallet and keys.
Living in an old mill building, and not having heard the fire alarm this late before, I took this event as a legitimate threat and left the building quickly. Before I was even walking down the staircase with my neighbors, most of whom were toting cat carrying cases, I regretted what I had hastily thrown into my gym bag. The jewelry case was empty except for a pair of earrings I don’t really care about and, with the advent of this blog, my computer doesn’t really leave my side, but still.
I neglected the notebook I use to jot down my musings, my passport, family photos, personal art, my books.
Hell, the apocalypse kit didn’t even come to mind as I grabbed what was closest to the door. The apocalypse kit is a funny story. When I went away to college in the farthest reaches of upstate New York my mother wanted me to be prepared in case Canada invaded the North Country. She took the oldest of my LL Bean backpacks (the kind with the leather bottom) and packed it chock-full of what you would need to survive for a week without the amenities a college campus.
– A first aid kit, a maglight, and a slicker
– Cash, important phone numbers, and my passport
– AA batteries, plastic utensils, and single-serving hand wipes
– Pens, pencils, and a notebook (my mother knows me well)
– Vienna sausages, peanut butter (chunky of course), and blueberry pop tarts (actually I added those my first week on campus)
The apocalypse kit became an urban legend amongst my friends. When my roommate and I threw parties, guests would ask to see the bag. The contents were displayed on my bed more times than they were ever called into use, except for the cash, that was gone by the end of the first semester.
Coming back to tonight’s events, the fire alarm was a false alarm. However, now that I’ve graduated college and have a grown up job, it’s time I start Apocalypse Kit Deux.