An outbreak of a disastrous epidemic sweeps the world. It ravages whole cities, leaving few human survivors. It’s the zombie apocalypse.

Day 75: I wake up to the sound of gunfire. However I’m not all that concerned because, by my completely accurate distance estimation, I know that the shots came from the border security, so no worries, I’m sure Timothy’s got it covered.

I begin to clean up the camp, not because we are planning to leave, but because the zombie hooligans might run us out earlier than anyone had expected. Next on my lists of tasks is to find sustenance. Because everyone in camp is now super fit, and active, not to mention pretty much die-hards in every aspect, we need a hearty meal. Luckily when disease swept the nation, I managed to survive with three sharp shooters. And I quickly picked up on all of their skills. So locating and bringing in breakfast is a breeze.

On my way out of camp I bring just a knife because, you know, what could possibly happen? I travel north.  I don’t need a compass because my soul has become one with the north and south poles, and direction is no longer an issue.  I check the traps that I set yesterday. Did I mention I’m now a skilled trap layer? The first one comes up empty–not good.  I move on to the second trap. It’s as empty as the first. I continue to search all the traps, but with only one left, our prospects of eating breakfast are dim. The last one isn’t empty. However, what’s left won’t feed anyone, it just shows that our barrier has been compromised, and zombies have infiltrated our camp.

I sprint back to camp, and although I was a lovable klutz before the apocalypse, I now run with grace of agility of a jungle cat. I reach the camp, not out of breath, and calmly divvy out orders to the people there. We execute the plan perfectly, which is a relief because we practiced it enough. We fall into bed exhausted. Day 76: repeat.