It's been a very post-apocalyptic few weeks.
Luke and I finally got around to watching the first season of Walking Dead (which rocked my socks directly off), and I finished reading the Hunger Games trilogy (only about a year later than everyone else. What of it?). This prompted us to have a nice, lighthearted chat about the end of civilization as we know it.
Me: Yeah. I am so not going to make it out of any end-times scenario alive. I don't run, I have no coordination, so shooting is probably out, and the last time I held a baseball bat, I ended up in the emergency room with a busted finger.
Luke: True. You might not even make it out of the house.
Me: I mean, I'd be a great person to have with you, because I always have like twenty bottles of water in my bag. And I would probably be able to McGuyver some spectacular crap out of busted hubcaps and crumpled leaves.
Luke: Truthfact. But you would probably break your neck tripping over the dog or something before a zombie even showed up. But once you got out of immediate danger, you'd probably outlast the rest of us.
Me: Whaaa? With all my hunting and survival skills? I am no Bear Grylls.
Luke: Yeah, but once you were out in the wild, you'd have an easier time adjusting to eating squirrels and berries. Because of the no gluten thing. Everyone else would be like, "Waaaaah! Where's my bread?" But you would be like, "eat these dandelion greens." And you wouldn't be going through the human-food detox, because you've already been through it.
So, there you have it. Fellow GF-ers, rest assured that in case of zombie apocalypse or societal breakdown, as long as you can scavenge for small game and plants, you might outlast your gluten-y counterparts. If all else fails, learn how to shoot straight.