A hot mess. I expect people to still be holding on to coastal real estate that floods regularly but they still do financial black magic with it. Already tens of millions of climate refugees, most western economies in a persistent state of managed collapse, lots of countries have a federal government that only exists on paper, social ties and norms have eroded on a scale we can't comprehend due to capitalism and AI. The world order has already ended and capitalism is in the process of degenerating into techno-feudalism, yet most people are in denial about it.

Still, many constellations of safe havens exist. At least two of which I have built, mostly with my own labor and that of my accomplices. The bug farm stands as one of the enterprises that supports a commune, another is fermented foods, another is either plastic or textile reprocessing. I live in a mud hut, it's warm as hell, we've got rocket stoves and like fifty blankets.

The maple trees where I live are all dead or moribund. But I do have a microclimate on one side of a hill where a yaupon holly I planted is growing.

What I probably regret is trusting people too much, letting them make rash anti-social choices rather than being assertive and proverbially kicking their asses into cooperating with each other.