I reckon I'd be a great boy scout or girl guide. As it was, I never graduated from the lowest ranks having left the enclave following a tense 'discussion' between my Dad and the leader of the group about a cement mushroom...
Anyhoo, so now I'm in my summer years, I find when I leave the house I'm quite literally prepared for anything.
Doesn't everyone carry around spare tea bags? An even number of panadols (so I always have the correct dosage of two)? An entire Bodleian Library of shopping lists? Random keys from forgotten doors? A range of non-perishable foodstuffs (with bag-fluff attached)? Enough chargers to form a make-shift clothesline (perhaps to drape your shirt over while you sew on the replacement button you've been carrying around for longer than you've known how to tie a shoe, using the little sewing kit you stole from a Best Western in 1984)?
Mercy, last time I looked I even found a badge, never worn, that I bought for a conference in 2005. Says the badge: "Ars longa, vita brevis" which I'm pretty sure translates to "life is too short to carry around a badge for three years".
On reflection, it's not about being prepared (afterall, if I'm away from home and a situation arises I can simply exchange money for goods and services, right?) but about being a borderline nutbar hoarder, and frankly, that's a whole lot easier to explain than a cement mushroom.
