There’s nothing better than snuggling up on a cold winter night on a mattress that you’ve worn to just the right balance of spring and firmness, under a thick, warm, fluffy quilt. Even in summer, with the sheets kicked away, curling up on your comfy bed and getting five or seven hours of zzzzz’s is what makes it possible to get through the toughest days.
After the global climate change cataclysm, comfortable beds and uninterrupted hours of sleep are going to be a thing of the past. How will you survive?
If your home is still standing and habitable, you may find yourself sharing it with a lot more family and friends than you thought it was designed for, if their homes weren’t so lucky. Will you get the bed, or will you have to give it to your mom? Or to your jerk of brother who always got his way even when you were kids? How many other people will want to share the bed with you? How many on the bedroom floor?
And that’s a best-case scenario.
If you find yourself on the streets, you’ll have to sleep on the ground, in trees, on tables and chairs, or perhaps even the tops of filing cabinets. Who knows where you’ll settle in, and where you’ll have to sleep? You can lug around a sleeping bag with you, but definitely not your sleep number bed.
Cars may offer comfortable alternatives for sleeping even after all the gas has run out. Heck, if you’re hit by the foreclosure cataclysm first, you may get a chance to test that out sooner than you realize.
If you find yourself on the run from marauding bands of sociopaths and hungry animals, you’ll be on guard constantly and won’t get the solid hours of sleep you’re used to. One of the things I remember most from reading Farley Mowat’s Never Cry Wolf many years ago was how he learned to sleep like wolves, in short, shallow naps strung together through the night. If you want to survive, you’ll need this skill too.
It will be uncomfortable at first, but so are new shoes and even new mattresses. Practice sleeping in discomfort now so you’ll be ready at a moment’s notice. Start out by sleeping on the floor in your own home. Then try a large table. Over time, work your way up to sleeping on chairs, in cars, in dumpsters, in doorways, ultimately working your way up into the trees. When the cataclysm hits, everyone else will be exhausted and fuzzy from lack of sleep. You’ll be bright, chipper and better prepared to forage for survival than your unprepared neighbors.
What you consider unimaginable discomfort today, may become everyday and ordinary after the cataclysm. Who knows what creature comforts you can give up if you just give it a try?