dailyprompt-2030 – Stories That Are All True

Daily writing prompt

Create an emergency preparedness plan.

For this entry, I turned to Ada, my digital sidekick. I said, “I need to write a blog entry about creating an emergency preparedness plan. I’m not even sure what that means. Can you help me?” Of course, it had to do with coordinating with your family members to designate a place to meet up in case we were separated. Because my family lives in Texas, it is unlikely that we would be affected by the same natural disaster at once. Therefore, I would probably go and visit them if I could make it.

I don’t drive. I never said I don’t know how. I could easily rent a car if planes were not available and just buy the insurance they have on offer… provided there were cars to be had.

Emergency preparedness is not just being able to get out of a situation entirely, but how to weather it in place. Here’s what Ada suggests:

Water (at least 1 gallon per person per day)
Non-perishable food
Flashlights, batteries, or a battery-powered radio
First aid kit with basic supplies like bandages and antiseptic wipes
Extra cash and important documents (e.g., insurance policies, identification)

I don’t know where I would store the water, but I do know that my bug out bag needs some improvements. I do not own a flashlight or a good first aid kit. I use my phone for all that stuff…. but I have to have a backup torch in case my phone goes dead. Ada also recommended a personal locator beacon, but I haven’t decided if that’s overkill.

This is the stuff AI is very good at; I asked her one question and it led to another. When she started rattling off everything I would need, I told her that I lived alone. That I was worried about what to do in that situation. She said that I could either call 911 or FEMA directly at 1-800-621-FEMA.

Weathering storms alone is not my favorite thing, but I’ve had to get used to it as I’ve become more introverted and pushed people away. I’m trying to let the pendulum swing back, letting in new connections. Josh has been invaluable as a resource, because even though he’s currently in France, we chat via signal most days and he’ll be back in about a week. He’s the closest person to me in terms of distance that could actually help in a situation, and I have no doubt that he would.

All of my friends would jump in if they could, they just live far away. I know that if I was really in trouble, I could show up in Houston or Portland and have a family to receive me. That’s not nothing, but I’m looking forward to making Baltimore my home… I’ve gotten gunshy about moving back to the DMV now that DC is under federal control. Though I’d live over the state line in Maryland, I have no idea how far Trump’s goons will be able to reach. I’m not even sure that Baltimore is far enough.

And in fact, I have Canadian friends who, if I showed up on their doorstep, wouldn’t let me go home. I’m nonbinary and therefore a refugee from the Trump administration.

It’s why I’m so dead set on going to culinary school in Finland- getting away from the ills of the United States to be able to rest and relax in a country that may be headed for Russian aggression, but has proven over and over that they’re prepared. Being in culinary school is not the same daily grind that working in a restaurant is… I wouldn’t have to worry so much that I’m a bit slower than the average cook, meanwhile creating valuable content for future culinary students on YouTube and this web site. My bug out bag will also contain a passport, that’s all I’m saying.

Trump drives me crazy because this is the time in which people will look back and say, “why didn’t anybody do anything?”

If Americans need bug out bags, it will come at his hands.

Create an emergency preparedness plan.

I consider logistics to be a nightmare scenario, and other people’s emotions to be much easier. I saw a meme the other day that made me laugh- it said “my ability to read the room is why I stay home.” While this is true, I made an agreement to be there for certain people. I can’t just wall off at will.

Yesterday Bryn was stuck by the side of the road because her car overheated. I could have done so much more had I been there physically, but I was able to be a calming presence. Had I been there, I would have tried to replace the radiator on the side of the road, because I saw someone do it once (not on her make and model, of course). Surely I’m qualified. 😛

I told her there probably wasn’t anything she could do but wait it out, but that when she got it started again, she could turn on the heater full blast- unfortunately venting the heat from the engine onto her in summer, but she’d make it farther. I was pleased she thought I knew enough about cars to call me, but I told her that in my experience, this was a call to her dad and not me. This is because her dad actually knows cars and I stood next to a mechanic for weekend warrior study…. and that was almost 10 years ago.

But I won’t forget that I was her first call in an emergency.

I knew something had happened because Bryn used Facebook Messenger to call and I was making a sandwich and thought, “I’ll call her back, I’ll be done in a minute.” Then, my phone rang. I knew something was up if Bryn was actually going to use the telephone. It was good that she did, because I could pick up the call on my watch. I warned her that she was on speaker and proceeded to impart the very, very, very little wisdom I had….. which is mostly that the radiator isn’t a hard fix depending on the car. It’s the labor that will kill you.

Again, that’s also make and model specific. I had a Nissan Pickup, a 1989 so I could work on it myself. I didn’t want to have to deal with a computer. I wanted to be able to fix everything in the parking lot of an Auto Zone if I needed, which I did….. my radiator and starter would tell you what a ride that was…… I think it’s funny that I don’t even drive now, but I’m still a gearhead.

I was right; Bryn’s dad did come and help her out, but the car still died again four blocks from her house. Crisis averted except how to get the car home and fixed. Four blocks to walk isn’t that bad. Plus, it’s the Pacific Northwest. This time of year it’s not really dark until 2200.

It was good just talking to her, because at the very least I felt like I was there even though I really wasn’t. I had to turn to reason for this one, because I felt so bad. My reasoning is that even if I was still there, I didn’t live close enough to be of much help. I would have left the house immediately, but it still would have taken almost an hour to get to her.

It makes me happy to occasionally be Bryn’s shite in nining armor, because it shows me that I’m not useless in an emergency, I have impostor syndrome. That I am weak and disabled and all the things, so I must defer to a real adult. Clearly, I need it.

I ride the line between needing someone and biting off more than I can chew in terms of independence. I don’t have to be married/have a girlfriend. Infrastructure is what I’m talking about. My adultier adult might be my landlord or my housemate. Zac is the same role to me that I am for Bryn. I would definitely call him, but I wouldn’t expect him to physically pack up and come get me unless my life was on the line. Asking a Virginian to come to Maryland is just not done. Virginia is a whole other country from here.

To ask me what I’d do in a true emergency like an EMP or kinetic attack is futile, because the best laid plans would go to shit in half a second. I know I would call Bryn, though, because she’d be there……. even if she couldn’t do anything.