This does not belong in the other section.. Read along and you'll find out why.
I'm at the 3/4 mark on a major clean-up/throw-out project. The last area to be gone through before the vacuum cleaner of doom starts up is the front hall closet. There's a small, sealed packing box back in the rear corner. It's sat there ever since I moved in here. It should have been sitting there because it is neatly labled "Hall Closet". I look deep into my collective memory, wondering what's been storted in the bottom of the hall closet for all these yers.
Nada. Blank. No idea whatsoever. Why didn't I write a clue? I did write a clue - "Hall Closet". Why didn't I write a better clue?
It's either pitch the box into the trash unopened and spend the rest of my life wondering what was in there, or open the sucker up and look.
Nudge the box with my toe - no ominous ticking starts. No non-ominous ticking, either. Give the box a quick shake. No sounds of things rattling or of glass breaking, nothing that even suggests some hibernating being is being disturbed and now awakening. It's probably OK to cut the packing tape, right?
Move the box to where I have an unimpeded line of retreat, should it be needed. Still nothing ominous sounding. Actually, no sounds at all except my heart beating and my ragged breathing.
Cut the tape. Wait to see if anything happens. Wait. Wait. Wait some more just to be sure. Nothing happens.
Use the broom handle to flip up one of the box flaps, while poised like a sprinter facing towards the line of retreat. Other than the flap staying up, nothing happens.
Still using the broom handle, raise the other flaps. Lots of anticipation met with - nothing.
OK, time to sneak up and peer into the box. Why, oh why, is my emergency signaling mirror in the BOB in the car? I could tape it to the broom handle and sneak a peek without actually exposing myself. But it is in the BOB, which is in the car. Any I'm too lazy to go out there and get it. So, nothing to do but stick my head over the edge and look inside. I commence slicing the pie, getting better and wider looks inside. But nothing is registering because I'm duking back so quickly, "just in case something happens."
It's gone beyond rediculous. Why not just walk over there, stand over the box, and see what's inside? I don't know why not, so that's what I do. I am now, so to speak, face to face with the contents.
A dozen rolls of TP!
Now it all comes flashing back to me. I had assembled my BOB and my GOOD bag. I was as pleased as punch with myself. Until I remembered - there was no TP. (In case you did not know it, TP is what will prevent the total collapse of civilization. Stashing a dozen rolls can only be a good idea. Stashing a dozen rolls of the extra-soft, quilted stuff with pretty flowers printed on it will not only prevent the collapse of civilization but might be one of the better means of attracting a female in the post-apocolyptic world. Or apparently so my mind was telling me 15 years ago.)
I am now debating with myself if I should, for the sake of science, conduct a series of experiments to determine if TP can survive 15 years in the back of my hall closet without catastrophic deterioration, or should I just go out to the car with a couple of rolls and cram them in the BOB, and stuff the remaining rolls in the GOOD bag?
The moral of the story (if there is one besides that I am an idiot)? Be specific when you lable your emergency supplies. Sure it will make it easier for the folks who are raiding your bunker, but by that time you should be dead anyway, right? And if you are not dead you will be able to find what you are looking for without pawing through a bunch of boxes, all neatly labled "Emergency Supplies".
stay safe.
