Dear Journal,
Well, somehow the extinction event missed me and TBL, although the kids next door seem to have been spared as well, so the screeching autist Turdbug was wrong after all. Hope she’s out on the ocean somewhere heading for her next grift, and her crew upped and disappeared on her – it’d serve her right.
Haven’t seen movement across the street – if I don’t see signs of life after work today, if anyone even shows up to open the store, I’ll gather what supplies they have up and down the street to keep us going as long as possible. Probably have to drain the fuel from their cars for the drive down to the farm. Damned if I’m staying here when I can be on the farm growing taters and corn. Going to have to take the firearms and ammunition, though I know where the sporting goods stores are down there.
At least the idiot kid down the street won’t be running up and down the road at 60 in a residential neighborhood…
Check in later,
Clete
