[Insert SuperAwesome Title for Last-Ever Blog Post Here]

I did not mail out the Christmas cards in time for the Apocalypse. Dag! Nabbit! EPIC. FAIL.
In other news...

If he really looked deep into his own heart, perhaps even James Wesley Rawles would agree that you can prepare and prepare, for whatever tragedy, and you can still not be quite ready when it happens. You have kind of a vague understanding in your mind that things are going downhill, and then they do. When they do, no matter how slowly they've been sliding, the real end always feels like a crash.

I am sad that this will be the last-ever post on "Single Girl's Guide to Impending Apocalypse," although now that I've racked up 8 loyal readers (as opposed to the only-four loyal readers I had on "Another Celebrator of Seven-Day Weekend), I think I'll leave the URL intact for ease of access. I planned and planned my last post, but then as I reviewed the concept in my head today, it just didn't seem appropriate. It wasn't inappropriate, but it wasn't as exactly right as I thought it would be. So! In addition to "there goes the world," there goes my brilliant last-ever post, as well.

As has so often happened since last January when I cannibalized my personal blog to make way for this one, something else came to take the place of my brilliant last post, and that thing was the school shooting in Connecticut.

That shooting jacked EVERYTHING up. It jacked up collaboration by forcing an all-staff meeting to discuss rumors in the district that people with guns will be storming campuses all over Las Vegas tomorrow. It jacked up 2nd hour when some kid leaped out of his seat screaming, "OHMYGOD I SEE A SHOOTER!" and I replied, "Tell the dean all about it, kid," and wrote him up. It jacked up my plan to say to my students tomorrow, "In the unlikely event that the world ends tonight, I have enjoyed teaching you," because several of my students intentionally got suspended so as not to come to school tomorrow, and others' parents are keeping them home. It jacked everything up so much that one of my students actually asked this afternoon, "What is it again that we're not supposed to talk about? Is it the end of the world, or is it shooting?"

That's how jacked up everything is.

At least two students in each of my five classes asked me if I am coming to school tomorrow. I replied, "Of course I am! It's my job. I also predict that I will have the possibility of receiving gifts!" I was able to take the opportunity of the confusion to say something along these lines to each of my classes: "We have structures and procedures in place for emergencies, and we promise to keep each of you as safe as we possibly can. HOWEVER! You know that anything can happen at any time. [Insert funny disaster scenario, such as getting conked on the head by a falling projector, here.] But we don't live in fear because fear does us no good. What does us good is coming together here and learning and talking together." Fourth hour listened and smiled and nodded. Fifth hour hooted and hollered and generally fell off the geography train. I didn't mention any of any of this to 6th hour, because I was too jazzed about driving across town on a last-minute Christmas errand.

Know what else is jacked up? On 1/2/12, I took YES! Magazine's "How Resilient Are You?" quiz. Since earning my initial "off to a good start..." I have made arrowheads from pointy rocks. Even though they were only four feet high, I have scaled cliffs. I have maimed paper zombies with actual, real-live guns. I've rubbed elbows with the scary-looking lady at the honey stand. I have stockpiled food storage, harvested lint, learned how to use magnesium to its best advantage and come on people! I've knitted scarves! Tonight, when I took the "How Resilient Are You?" quiz, I got...

(drum roll please)...

off to a good start.

Readers, thank you for taking this journey with me, especially if you literally took it with me like Miss Gokey or Jodi or Krista or Dana or Amanda did. (Because I would run out of room if I mentioned everyone, I'm only listing my top-five most frequent mentions. Don't be offended.) As we get "off to a good start" on the next one, best wishes, and I leave you with Jack Kerouac:

"Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life."