They’ll take some doctors, of course, that’s a given. And probably a few scientists and engineers so that they can rig up some sort of rudimentary generators and give us electricity. And I’m sure they’ll need farmers, and vets, and I reckon a police officer who’s handy with a gun might be on the list. But a community arts worker? While I’m passionate about the value of the work I do, even I’m not sure my skills would be top priority in a post-apocalyptic rural commune. I’m increasingly nervous, if I’m honest, that I’d be left hair clawing and bitch slapping with a pregnant woman for the last seat on the bus, and this is not a place I’d like to be.
So I’ve decided to improve my chances. Up-skill, as it were, and learn to do a whole bunch of things that will make me indispensable to the new order. These things include, but are not limited to, the following: cheese-making, dress-making, goat-milking, fruit preserving, knitting, hair-cutting and flat-pack furniture assembly*. I’m a city girl through and through, so some of these skills might take a little longer to master than others (I haven’t seen many goats round here, and I’m not sure that I’m quite brave enough to milk a feral cat.) but armed with pinterest and my Mum’s endless supply of common sense, I intend to learn my way onto the list of evacuees.
'Mon the apocalypse...
*I’m not sure, but I suspect a world without an abandoned Ikea to raid probably wouldn’t be worth living in.
