Focus. I cannot get Cuz to focus.
She started to tell me about a relative who was shot during the Civil War (one amongst way too many, in my opinion) and the next minute she was off on the Mayans end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it thing. I’m telling you, people, if you listen to this stuff it will make you crazy.
Last night I found myself filling a ten-gallon jug with water. If the electricity goes out at least I’ll have water for a few days while I consider my options. Food we’re not going to need because we’re going to learn to eat Cosmic Light.
The Photon Belt I can possibly survive. The Galactic Alignment, I doubt it. That’s the thing that’s going to wipe out the computers. For years now I’ve been looking forward to a restful retirement. I wasn’t figuring on a polar shift.
“When’s the Rapture?” Cuz asked.
“That was back in May,” I said. “It didn’t happen.”
She said, “There are people selling post-Rapture pet care down here. In case you get taken up to Heaven and your pets don’t, they’ll take care of them for you.”
Good Lord. Only in America.
I was relieved to find out that ascending to a higher state of consciousness is optional. There will be seven (count ’em, seven) earths to choose from.
I’d like to stay on the earth that has the computers. Because, if we have to give up chocolate chips and eat Prana, I’m sure I’m going to want to email someone about it.