If you woke up this morning thinking you’d get to outrun the undead, I’ve got bad news: You still have to go to your day job.
I know you’ve been praying to put on the Daily and hear Michael Barbaro’s soothing voice announcing a strange outbreak of a virus that makes humans hungry for brains. But Mr. Barbaro says no such thing, this morning. So today is not the day you can barricade yourself inside a remote cabin, it’s another day you have to get on the F train and make small talk with Tim in Marketing.
You’ve been training all your life for a zombie apocalypse: sprinting, hammer combat, hiding in small places, covering your human scent with dead animals and fecal matter, etc.
You’re prepared for any and all forms of zombies: fast zombies, slow zombies, weirdly smart zombies, normal zombies (aka “dumb” zombies).
You can improvise any object into a weapon to defeat hordes of undead and you regularly run drills to be sure you are accurate with your head-shots.
You know to double-tap, you aren’t some novice. The writing’s been on the wall for a long time that this skill set would be important as we approach the inevitable end of human life on this planet.
Unfortunately, today is not the day your training will be utilized.
Today, you will head to your open concept office and present a report on the latest “omnichannel-push strategy.” Your years of discipline and extensive zombie target practice will not help you with your analysis of “real-time engagement data”. But how you wish it was different! A new day!
Your three-hour conference call about “scalable creative automation tools” would be a lot better if you could use your impeccable archery skills to eliminate the living dead. Alas, whatever it is you do at the office isn’t really compatible with your z-hunter talents.
The highlight of today will be a $16 salad. But, someday it will be putting the Leader Zombie’s head on a spike as a warning to all zombies not to challenge your authority as Head Human in your rural county.
In spite of all the signs that our society is crumbling and a plague of zombie-ism is eminent, that day will not be soon. So best finish up that desk lunch, and get back to that spreadsheet for Cynthia.
Tonight, in your dreams, you will see masses of filthy men and women, shells of themselves, infected to only consume flesh.
With tears in your eyes, you’ll execute your lover who was tragically bitten. You won’t let them succumb. In your sleep, you will see what the world could be.
You, a brave warrior, protect what is left of humankind. Killshot after killshot.
Be not afraid, the day is coming.
But also I hope you will have that memo on Tod’s desk by 9 am tomorrow.