I have no zombie apocalypse survival plan.
There are many reasons for this. Largely it’s because I am one of those least likely to survive. I am not exceptionally strong or fit. I don’t run very fast. My knowledge of firearms is limited to what I’ve seen on tellie. I don’t know how to drive. And though I assume I could figure it out in an emergency on account of having watched other people drive, I’d be a crap driver, wouldn’t I?
Basically, without civilization I’m a goner. My idea of roughing it includes not having a Vivienne Westwood ballgown.1 I have no idea how to fix anything except broken first drafts.
But I’ve also decided not to bother with a plan because I have learned from my copious consumption of zombie books and movies that there is no surviving the zombie apocalypse. All you can do is stave off the inevitable. Eventually the shopping centre is invaded by a biker gang, the fences fall, or the experimental zombie subjects in your underground bunker get loose.
So my crap plan is to keep the fridge stocked with really good champers, have lots of water and other essentials as well as emergency tins of foie gras2 in the cupboard, ice cream in the freezer, and hope that all my fave people are with me so we can watch the world go down together.