As if my options weren't limited enough, PRE-apocalypse.
Why I'm Afraid of Guns
Periodically I get this strange, desperate need to learn what I think of as "survival skills"--talents that would make me useful in a post-apocalyptic world so that no band of ravaging mutants would kill me for my meat. This sounds like some put-on eccentricity, I know, but I'm totally freakin' serious. Thanks to this urge, I now know how to generate emergency power in four ways that have nothing to do with city electrical grids (and two ways that do). I should also note here that the only reason I ever learned to read electrical schematics was to add to my apocalypse survival skill set. I have a lot of standard identify edibles, start fires, navigation type survival skills.
I practice climbing shit all the time. You never know when you'll have a need to get to higher ground.
From time to time I'll think, "Hannah, it's time you learned to fire a fucking gun, like, for reals." 'Cuz really, when it comes time to confront the post-apocalyptic mutants, what if they're too starved for human flesh to recognize my usefulness? Shouldn't I be able to blast them apart and cause them to fear me and my mighty boomstick?
But there will certainly be confusion after the apocalypse. We will be busy establishing fiefdoms and competing in thunderdomes. Also, killer mutants. And in all that confusion, what if someone mixes in magic bullets with the normal bullets? And what if one of the bullets I put in my gun is enchanted so that it will only seek out and kill the shooter's one true love? And what if I shot that bullet?
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And, god help me, what if it hit one of those dirty fucking mutants?