I don't understand the #Brexit but I'm terrified anyway.

I don't understand the #Brexit but I'm terrified anyway.

When I saw Brexit trending on Twitter over the past few days, I assumed "Brexit" was the name of a cat on Instagram. Apparently, it's actually a really really cute name for Britain leaving the European Union. That sounds complicated, so I'm going to choose not to learn anything else about it but freak out anyway. I'm not going to let my total and complete lack of willingness to read anything in the newspaper that isn't a Cathy cartoon ("Ack!" Love it!) get in the way of my social obligation to panic. I love panicking!


C'est moi! (That's Europe for "it me!")

Here are the various ways I will choose to panic in the coming weeks. None of them involve turning on the news or picking up a book or even listening to someone explain the situation to me. That stuff would make a huge dent in all this time I've blocked out for mindless terror!

1. Post vague social media statuses.


"This is awful," I'll write on Facebook. "Big things happening." "Oh my. Brexit." "I feel sick."

2. Invest in gold.


Whenever something bad happens, everyone invests in gold because bad things make people want to buy jewelry. Or something. Whatever it is, I'm not going to get left behind!

3. Do British things while casting people sad looks.


I'll drink tea and eat cucumber sandwiches and catch someone's eye meaningfully. I'll look down at the sandwich and then back at them. Sad smile. An unspoken word moves between us: "Brexit."

4. Disappoint people and then follow up with "It's been a hard week, with Brexit and everything."


Oh yeah, I'm going to be late to our dinner plans. Haven't you heard? There's a BREXIT going on!

5. Campaign for Donald Trump.


Look, if I'm easily terrified, I'm going to want to join a movement of people who are also easily terrified. One person panicking is an outlier; millions of people panicking is a security state. And doesn't "security" sound nice in the wake of Brexit, whatever Brexit is?

6. Buy canned goods.


For my bunker!

7. Buy guns.


For my bunker!

8. Buy a cute dress.


Just because I live in this bunker now doesn't mean I can't look pretty!

9. Be racist against British people.


"Haven't you heard?" I'll whisper, "All those people care about is going to the pub, Dr. Who, and Brexit."


10. Cry out "Brexit!" at odd times while riding public transportation.


While staring mournfully out the window, or looking down at the ground.

11. Quote Beatles lyrics very very meaningfully.


"We all live in a yellow submarine," I'll say, out of nowhere, in the middle of a work meeting.

12. Accidentally call my son "Brexit."


His name's not Brexit! What am I even doing?!

13. Adopt a British accent occasionally just to make people rethink some things.


"'ello, guv'nah," I'll slip into conversation. Wait, people will think, is this person who was racist against British people herself British?! I'll shrug. That's Brexit for you.