Where's the damn Bunker??!!

This Blog is all True...  The TITLE is, of course, fictional, unless you are reading this by the dying light of a fading iPad battery as hordes of undead shuffle past on wind-swept streets.  In which case, hopefully the title is now solidly FACT, because otherwise I am dead, or possibly shuffling past your heavily boarded up windows...feeling hungry.

Now that context is firmly established (or not)  let me tell you why I decided to write a Zombie Apocalypse Survival Blog. A few weeks ago my 14 year old daughter Isabelle and I had the following conversation:

Isabelle:  Hey Mum, my friend Kirsty thinks your awesome.

Me:  (Surprised but pleased)  Thanks.  Nice to know.

Isabelle:  Yeah, she says your much cooler than her Mum. Her Mum doesn't even believe in the Zombie  Apocalypse, or pandemics or anything.

Me: (Smugly) Well some people just aren't very smart.

Isabelle:  Yeah, she thinks you're awesome and wants to know if she can come and share our bunker.  She said she doesn't need to bring her Mum...or her little brother.

Me:   Sure!  Wait..  Bunker, what bunker?

Isabelle:  You know, the bunker, for the apocalypse.  That bunker you have.

Me:  (Slightly hysterical)  I don't have a bunker!  What makes you think I have a bunker.

Isabelle:  I dunno, I thought you told me once that you have a bunker or something.  You know, when you were all crazy about the Bird flu a few years ago.  You said you were ready for anything and you filled the laundry with baked beans and stuff and I'm sure you said we had a bunker.

Me:  No, we don't have a bunker - where the hell would we get a bunker?  And we ate all that food, and the rice got full of weevils and the potatoes went gross.  All I have left now are a few respirators and some out of date Tamiflu!!

Isabelle:  Really?  Is that all?  Really, no bunker?

Me:  Definitely no bunker.

Isabelle:  Well that's crap!  Hang on, I have to go Skype Kirsty and tell her we're all going to die.  Man, I really thought you had a bunker.


And that's when I realised that all my talk about surviving in an emergency (aka Zombie Apocalypse) was just that...all talk.  And that I am no more prepared than the next idiot for a TEOTWAWKI situation.

In fact, I am probably WORSE off than most, because I know what I should be doing if I truly believed my own tin-foil hat theories.  So when the excrement hits the oscillating blades I won't be one of those running around waving my arms in the air screaming "How could this happen", I'll be one of the ones staring at myself in the mirror and screaming "How could you let this happen WITHOUT getting ready, you stupid beeeatch!!"

So after several weeks of lamenting my disgraceful lack of preparedness and bunker-less state, I have decided to document my quest to prepare for the  End of the World.  It's not as easy as it sounds.