Rain. Fog. More rain and fog.

Could’ve sworn I left Oregon months ago.

You know, you get used to being stuck in rainy weather living up North–certainly while you live in the woods long enough to be lumped in with doomsday preppers–but seeing something as consistent and familiar as frequent rain just doesn’t sit right with me, given the context of this brave new world.

Been in Arklay a couple of days now, and for a seemingly thriving town in this strange punchline of a universe I haven’t run into anyone until Thomas. I’d just run out of bolts for my crossbow, and wouldn’t you know it: I run into a shop that sells them. Lady luck’s been a fierce bitch these days, and she didn’t stop then either: $41 doesn’t buy you a quiver of bolts, much less a snack.

I suppose Thomas was empathetic enough to see that he’d been in my shoes too, because he spotted me a candy bar. Guess I owe him big time–no favors, especially now, are given without the expectation of a return. Even offered me a job there too, so I think I owe him double time. Last time I held a job I was barely 17, and that was too long ago; hope these folks don’t mind a 5+ year gap in my resume.

World burns down and here I am worried about a job and making money to buy things.

Same shit, different day.