I was going to call this post ‘5 Acts of Spontaneity’… and then something sad happened. I stalled at 2. I genuinely couldn’t think of 5 whole acts of spontaneity I have pulled off this year. This will come as a surprise to precisely NO ONE.
Anyone who knows me will tell you ‘spontaneous’ is not a word used to describe me. ‘OCD-driven’? Yes. ‘Chronically late’. Indeed. ‘Sarcastic’? Until the end of time. So you can imagine how thrilling it was for me when a doctor accused me of having a ‘spontaneous genetic mutation’. As a fastidious, habit-honed and incredibly predictable individual, I can’t help but enjoy the fact that I’m impulsive in some way… even if it’s just at the molecular level.
|Apparently this is what being 'spontaneous' looks like. Seems like a massive effort.|
The thing is, even though I may seem directionless and lazy on the outside (I’m currently an unemployed student, I can’t un-ring that bell), on the inside I like to have a plan for every single possible scenario. It just happens to be that those plans are more suited to obscure crisis management and the oncoming zombie apocalypse (but, as experience has taught me, not crime fighting) than, say, forming a career strategy.
It does mean that I’m actually a very useful person to be near under a range of specific circumstances, such as:
This one’s clearly a no brainer (yep, that was a pun). Zombies are so hot right now their real world onset has to be viewed as inevitable. I’ve already picked out the nearby house that shall be my zombie fortress (sturdy, high walls and a narrow, bottle-neck entry up steep stairs) and am considering offers if anyone wants to join me in surviving. BYO skill set and good looks – we will be re-building and re-populating.
When civilisation crashes (it will, with or without a zombie helping hand) I’ve already mentally mapped out a looting plan. Mick and I have also debated the merits of what car to drive west with (fuel efficiency is a must).
Car Off A Bridge
Years ago I read, or heard, or saw (or… dreamt) something about how if you’re in a car with electric windows and you go over a bridge, you’re screwed because the electric system will fry and you won’t be able to open the doors due to the water pressure. The answer, dear friends, is the trusty Car Hammer. When I re-build and re-populate in the Dystopian Future, post Zombie Apocalypse, it will be illegal to sell a car without a Car Hammer.
Everyone’s ready for this one. Softball bat? Check. Cops on speed dial? Check. 4 distinctly calibrated response strategies? Um, obviously. I’m not going to tell you about them, because you might invade my home and I want you to be both surprised and impressed by my ingenuity. What detail will I share? Spoiler Alert: I am prepared for the use of a monkey burglar coming through my bedroom window.
Dinner In 4 Days
Back in the day (the university day), I didn’t flinch at the notion of eating tuna mornae for a week straight. Retrospectively 5 day old fish, cheese, milk and butter mixed together probably both harmed and helped in equal measure. These days I’m much more astute. The 4th Day usually features a Left Over Degustation.
I could continue this list, but I don’t want to give away the entire playbook (Dark Alleys, Climbing Trees and Bohemian Rhapsody feature prominently). I may not have my life together, and I may not be able to pull together 5 spontaneous acts over a 12 month period, but I’ve still got quite a lot going for me.
Strangely, housemate Layla insisted I don’t use any of the above as selling points when we interviewed people to take Mick’s room. I can’t imagine why.