![]() ![]() Gone were the days of reckless partying, sports cars, perceived freedom, hanging with old friends, and God, I missed that easy time. Mortgage, credit card debt, expanding waistline…the slow siphoning of my soul through a silly straw as I sat for countless lost days in rush hour traffic. Before the z-poc, I was mired in the drudgeries of everyday life: job I could barely stand, paid barely enough to feed us and keep a roof over our heads. ![]() Obviously, I had created this farcical world long before I got married and had a family. There would be a massive underground bunker loaded with all manner of cool, military grade weaponry, and occasionally we would have to fight off some rogue people–all the time swearing and high-fiving each other because we were the good guys. In this fantasy world, our walls were impregnable, our ammo unlimited, plenty of food, beer, and buxom babes–sorry, hon. ![]() What the hell, wasn’t like any of us were going in to work the next day. I thought I was going to be with a group of my best friends, drinking beer on the roof of some sporting goods superstore, keeping score of the heads we blasted off from hordes of the undead, taking bets on who could kill the most, even playing take a drink every time you missed or hit or maybe both. Where does one begin when the end has already happened? The zombie apocalypse has not been at all what I’d envisioned. ![]()
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