what will you do when the water runs out?

Gov. Purdue's prayers for rain last week didn't have much effect, but the Army Corp was more inclined to listen to him than God was. Over the protests of Alabama power plants and Florida fishing industries, they've agreed to reduce the flow of water out of Lake Lanier by 5% starting this Friday, and they'll consider further cuts next month.

Will it help? Maybe. It should at least delay the inevitable. But without a miraculous level of serious, sustained rain, changing Lake Lanier's water flow can only postpone the inevitable. Maybe we'll make it through the winter, but what will happen in the next dry Georgia summer if the reservoirs aren't replenished before then?

My personal opinion is that this might well be the first signs of Georgia becoming, like the Southwest has been for a long time, an unsustainable place for large cities. We've been pushing the limits of natural places for humans to live for a long time, but in the past few years we've begun to see that we can only push those limits so far. Witness New Orleans, which two years after the hurricane still has not rebuilt much of the damage done. And to be honest, how much sense does it make to rebuild a city below sea level? But I think Atlanta might soon be a similar victim to the opposite problem: a mere remnant of her former self, abandoned in favor of places with more reliable drinking water.

I told my husband months ago that if the water ran out, or came close, we were moving back to Virginia. Right next to the Shenandoah River. He was hesitant, since he loves his job here, and--surprisingly, to me--he was rather unconcerned about the possibility of water actually drying up in the city. "They won't let that happen," he said, although I still don't know who he meant by "they." But yesterday he asked his boss whether he'd be able to telecommute from Virginia if water problems in Atlanta got bad. Somewhat to his surprise, she took the question very seriously.

"We'll definitely have to change our telecommuting options," she told him, "because I think a lot of people will not want to stay in the city."

Add me to the list of people who won't stick around to stand in line for bottled water from FEMA or the Red Cross. Although I realize it's not really necessary to go as far as Virginia--there are rivers still running here, and I know people with wells in the exurbs--but for me, it's a good excuse. And hey, if I'm moving anyway, why not get out of the drought-prone area entirely?

What about you? What will you do if Atlanta's faucets stop running?