What Are You Doing To Prepare For Impending Doom?

I'm teaching myself to swim.

That's a lie, I already know how to swim, what I'm doing is trying to improve my technique. Be faster, stronger. I figure it will come in handy. You know, with global warming and everything. When those ice caps melt I'm going to be ready.

I'm also teaching myself to wrestle polar bears. And catch large fish with my bare hands. I eat plenty of sashimi, seaweed- that sort of thing, so I'll reckon I'll be well prepared for the lack of earth grown foods. I don't even know if I'll miss them that much.

I also have a whale-stomach-simulator rigged up in my back yard. You know, in case I get swallowed by a whale. Cos that's happened before. The important thing is the breathing. You've got to do it, even though it stinks like rotting fish down there. Which is just common sense, I guess, but there's no harm in getting it just right.

With these key survival skills, and the happy coincidence that I live on the second floor, I think I'll get along just fine. I'll sunbake on the roof, subsist on whatever swims past my window and I'll be able to do breast stroke to get anywhere I need to go (which we'll all have to do; all petrol reliant vehicles will have been outlawed by then).

Yep. I'm ready.

What are you doing to prepare for impending doom?

AQUA PROFONDA

It's rush hour at the pool. Every lane is packed, I see a textured canvas of arms churning water, heads bobbing, water splashing over feet kicking furiously.

The clock says 7:45.

I'm in up to my waist, gathering the courage to submerge and join the chain of swimmers, up and back, up and back. I put it off, allowing the sensation of being half in, half out of the cool water to linger.

I'm straddling two worlds.

Above there is noise. Splash, splash. My hands itching to wrap around an iphone, a coffee, any addiction. Below is blue nothing.

Take the plunge. Kick, kick. Splash, splash.

Propelling through the water, I join the chain. My arms new strokes on this canvas, the neon pink of my swimming cap tracking alongside the lane ropes. Up and back, up and back.

What have they come here to forget? I wonder. What dreams do they wish the water would wake them from?

We swim and swim until we can't swim anymore, or until our lives beckon. Outside, dripping chlorine and shivering we are individuals once more.

(EDIT- Just noticed my typo- thanks very much for pointing it out guys! Is it at all indicative of my state of mind that i substituted a U for the O PROFONDA, or do I imagine that the profundity of my thoughts out weighs the terribleness of my spelling? I wonder.)