Apocalyptic Tidiness
Sharon March 27th, 2012
So after writing a piece on the other blog about how my empty laundry pile is a sign of the end of the world, we had another moment illustrating the principle of apocalyptic cleanliness.
I’ve been spring cleaning for a bit, getting ready for Passover and also doing a bunch of odd jobs I’d been putting off. One of them involved clearing out a closet where I stash a lot of things I don’t want little kids getting into. I carefully emptied it out, sorted, boxed and moved things around on Thursday, including my larges stash of “things you can make fire with” - matches, a couple of lighters, a magnesium firestarter for impressing the kids with etc…
The closet wasn’t done and one doesn’t leave matches lying around, so I packed them up and put them away in a nice safe place. And, what may be my first official “senior moment” as I approach forty, forgot entirely where I put them.
Fast forward to Friday night, we have guests for the Sabbath, and everyone is gathered around the table. My friend is ready to light her candles and then I will light my own. Except, ummm…we’re basically out of matches, and the couple in the box aren’t igniting. Ok, no prob, the one thing we know that uber-preparedness chick has is matches, right?
Ummm….I check the closet, then remember they aren’t in the closet anymore. I look for them in half a dozen places. Finally, as the minutes tick by and time gets short I have to go down and admit to my deeply amused friends that Sharon doesn’t know where any of the matches are. In my whole house, when needed, I can’t find a single way to make fire.
After some jokes about zombies and whether I’m a total poseur or not, Eric finally manages to get one of the sad remaining matches lit and we go about our business. My friends announce, however, that they are deeply, terribly disillusioned, since they thought they were going to come to my house when the zombies attack. I note they should probably stop for matches.
Later that night for some reason I look up and realize that I set the box of firestarting material neatly on top of the cabinets in our kitchen, well out of reach of little hands.
The moral of my story? Never, ever clean anything - the zombies know, and take advantage.
Sharon