Day One Hundred Twenty One:
There was a time when I would have said that sleeping in a car was the worst night's rest I have ever got. Compared to sleeping in a cold concrete drainage tube though, sleeping in a car was like staying at the Ritz Carlton with my own fleet of butlers and maids and whatever else rich people enjoyed before the world came unhinged.
When I woke up the my head felt a little more clear and my body was a little less weary and that combined with a little bit of luck result in me finding a nice tire iron in the side panel in the back of the car. I thought I had checked pretty good but apparently I was wrong.
So now I am sitting inside a little house that for once doesn't contain the mummified remains of whomever was living here previous to me. Sort of weird that they would barricade themselves in only to leave in the end. Oh well, I will just add that to the never ending pile in my mind titled "Eternal Unsolved Mysteries".
Most of the food in the cabinets turned to gross a long time ago but some of the canned stuff still seemed safe. That, plus a map of the local area and suddenly I started to feel like maybe my luck was changing. Then I remembered that my friends were dead and my life has absolutely no meaning and now I am going to end this little entry wishing I had found a bottle of alcohol and some Prozac instead of some food and a map. What a world.
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