So the alleged Big Day has come and gone and nothing feels any different except my house smells like cookies. The cats demanded pets and canned food. The dry cleaners had my sweaters ready. (Just think if there HAD been an apocalypse, my poor sweaters would forever have been in limbo. And I'm fond of those sweaters.) It poured down rain, but I don'
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Or, you know, the asteroid will get us.
Good thing you have cookies! Every apocalypse should have cookies. :D
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