A multi-step process to make sure you and your loved ones can make it through the intense trauma:
1) During the earthquake, spend the first half of the shaking yelling at the cat, who has a tendency to try to shake the furniture to piss you off, but hasn't done it so intently before. Realize that it's actually an earthquake and not the cat. Apologize to the cat. Remind her that she's not off the hook for future furniture-shaking.
2) Wander around the apartment making sure there aren't any papers that fell to the floor. Congratulate yourself for being neat enough that stuff didn't just fall to shit because of a minor earthquake. Immediately take it back and wonder when the last time was you actually mopped the floors.
3) Go on to Twitter and make jokes.
4) Make a list of all the things you're glad you weren't doing when The Big One hit: cutting vegetables, getting a Pap smear, getting a tattoo, stepping out of a wet bathtub, doing push-ups, running in the rain.
5) Do some actual work.
6) Roll your eyes at the West Coasters on Twitter assuming that all the tweets from earthquake survivors are reflecting genuine fear instead of the glee of a shared but mostly harmless experience.
7) Find a Turntable room that's been established where people are playing tongue-in-cheek "earthquake survival" songs. Try to think of something more interesting that "You Shook Me All Night Long". Settle on Link Wray's "Rumble".
8) Lame the person who mistakenly thought that the collective trauma meant they could get away with playing Oasis.
9) Do some actual work.
10) Forget that it ever happened.
Time elapsed: About 30 minutes, in which about 20 minutes of work was accomplished.