Dear Sweet Mama and the Concubine are going through some trouble up in Joisey (which I’ll go into later when it’s all resolved), which prompted a conversation between me and the Weasel that has left me SIMPLY STUNNED.
That boy… does not believe… in the ‘Pocolypse.
Like, not as a serious, shit-might-be-goin’-down and we should probably be ready kind of thing. Which is why he has me, I guess, but it’s becoming clear he MAY actually think I’M the crazy one! The which I am NOT.
I was just raised not to take things for granted, whereas he was raised not to lock your front door (yes, we DID grow up less than 30 miles from each other). But he… and this is just so hard to say… HE TRUSTS PEOPLE.
Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t try to stop my stockpiling and preparations, he just honestly doesn’t think we’re gonna need ’em! Where can you BUY that kind of optimism? I guess it goes along with his I’m-so-nice-I’ll-give-a-triflin’-ho-a-ride-to-her-apartment thing, which I keep trying (and failing) to break him of… but seriously? There is absolutely no way this whole “civilization” thing is gonna stay on the rails for much longer!
Part of me wishes I could be like that… but the other (much larger) part is busy building a fort out of crates of powdered milk.