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Like many Americans, I have long been obsessed with the apocalypse. Specifically: surviving it. Generally I exorcise this worry by purchasing wool-wear. But now seems like a critical moment to get my emergency skills in order—some two years into the recession and 22 months from the Earth’s collision with Planet X. To say nothing of snowpocalypse. Also, I lost my job; I was an editor at National Geographic Adventure until the magazine folded last December.

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