On Friday I was convinced I was in the middle of the/an apocalypse. I got off work early due to more power outages, and as soon as this was announced, clouds formed and a huge thunderstorm broke. But the heat wave wasn't broken by it; I ran outside (no umbrella, galoshes, or garbage bag) and made a beeline for the library, thunder clapped, the sun was still out, I stepped in ankle-deep gutter overflow rainwater that was still hot as anything. This was most of the basis of my reasoning that the world was ending.

I slipped on mud and saught refuge underneath the library portico. I walked in and returned a DVD about possible and/or proven sexual predators and dysfunctional families ('Capturing The Friedmans'), then checked out a DVD about sexual fetishes and comic books and dysfunctional childhoods ('Crumb'), then sat at a table with 'Wuthering Heights' to dry off, but ended up still leaving droplets on the table when going back outside. I was walking to beat the rain before it started up again, but now it was cloudy, and as I walked down Josh's street there was steam rising from the pavement, the whole way down.

I went to the supermarket to break my $20 bill, because a guy I'd e-mailed to buy his scanner (for $10) was going to show up at the house soon enough. For some reason the whole night before, I had the feeling he was probably going to kill me or attempt to "have his way" with me, all because I gave him my home address (and because I'm alone here for another week or so). It turns out he didn't kill me, he just sold me a scanner that was probably way too old for my computer. So I guess I will e-mail him again, and risk my life accordingly.

It is strange living the single life. It's certainly not like any tv shows I've seen before. It is also not as fraught with scary encounters at every turn, as my aunt's description of 'Single White Female' led me to believe when I was younger. But I'm still kind of paranoid.