We all have different motives and goals with our prepping. I personally am not expecting a civilization-ending disaster, I'm betting that temporary disruptions are more likely (and will be bad enough!). If I'm wrong, at least I'll be more prepped than 90% of my neighbors. But one odd by-product of my prep work is this: I have a renewed thankfulness that I'm living in a time when you turn a handle and you get clean warm water flowing. That you twist a knob and a controlled, hot fire appears. That you can poop inside a warm house and the poop gets carried away. That people come pick up my trash each week. That there is a huge pantry down the street called Safeway. That I can hop into a large metal container and go 70 mph wherever I want. That I can talk to anyone I want to at any time with a device that goes into a pocket. That I send electrons to Amazon and packages show up on my porch. That I can be close to death and I'm whisked away in a screaming metal box to a technological wonder-house with medicines and tubes and whirring magnets where they may bring me back to life, or at least take away the pain. As you prepare for a time when these conveniences will be gone, or nonfunctional, it makes you appreciate how miraculous, and fragile, they really are. Here's to civilization and all the boons it brings. Long may it be with us. I'm prepared to bid it farewell, but it'll be a sad farewell, and I'll be working to bring it back as quickly as possible.