Continued from chapter 1.2, here.

Axiom 2: Gather supplies.

Well, journal, it’s two days later, and I’m feeling a little better about my situation.

Should I be calling you a journal?  What’s the difference between a journal and a diary?  Ooh, I know, I’ll look it up with my brand new DICTIONARY, right here!

Let’s see…

Okay.  A journal is “a daily record of news and events of a personal nature; a diary.”  Hmm.

Journal, maybe I’m going a little crazy from lack of human interaction, but at least my situation seems fairly good aside from that little issue.

I’m still in the Starbucks.  I’ve decided to make this my home base – it’s got comfy chairs and coffee, after all, and the roof still hasn’t collapsed down on my head.  I’m taking that as a good sign.

But while Starbucks has some very tasty sandwiches stored in the fridge in the back, that’s not going to last me too long.  So I’ve been scouting around in the area, scavenging all the supplies that I can get my hands on, and dragging them back here.

Let’s see, what have I got… Journal, I’m carrying you around with me while I make a tally of all the supplies I’ve gathered so far:

• A wheelbarrow.  I found this at a home and garden supply store, and it’s amazingly useful for navigating around the rubble of a broken, destroyed world.  It greatly cuts down on the number of trips that I need to take in order to haul cans of beans, jugs of water, blankets, and other invaluable supplies back to my coffee shop home base.  Four out of five stars, with one star deducted for the time it tipped over and spilled cans of beans everywhere.
• Water.  For some reason, the faucets don’t seem to work any longer.  All that comes out of them is this brown-red sludge.  This is either a portent of the Apocalypse, or it means that our water system in town is terrible.  In any case, I’ve got a couple hundred gallon jugs of water stacked up in the back room now.
• Blankets and sheets and pillows.  Sure, the interior of my little personal fortress looks a bit like a tornado struck a Pier One Imports, but it’s comfy!
• A hammer, nails, and extra boards.  I got a little tired of feeling exposed, so I boarded up most of the windows, as well as the back door.  I still remember that angel smashing apart that poor little devil Furby.
• Batteries.  A lot of batteries.  All sizes.  I’ve got buckets just sitting around, filled with batteries.  Can’t have too many batteries.
• Some reading material.  As I mentioned, I stole a dictionary from a nearby bookstore.  Well, is it stealing if no one’s around to ring me up?  I waited at the checkout area for nearly ten minutes before I remembered that this was the Apocalypse.  Besides, my credit card probably doesn’t work any longer.
• Beans.  Did I mention food?  I’ve got more than beans, of course – I have cans of soup, vegetables, fruit, tuna, and just about any other food that can be crammed into twelve ounces of tin.  But somehow, whenever I reach into my big can bin to grab my next meal, my hand always seems to emerge holding a can of beans.