As Good As, Any Other Day

As Good As, Any Other Day

    Eleven O’clock, PM, AM. Doesn't really make a difference when there is nothing to do but listen to your heart beat, and wonder what it’s like out there. Last I heard, we were supposed to be in for it. Possibly the worst we’ve ever seen. I don’t know what that is supposed to mean. “Worst we have ever seen,” It’s what they were predicting on the radio and TV, when we had radio and TV. Don’t now anymore, what we got.

It doesn’t seem like it takes that long for time to begin to run together like ice cream on a July day. The seconds and minutes; next thing you believe you should eat something, it must be at least noon by now. I can’t remember how long it’s been. My mind has begun to play tricks on me. I can’t see outside so I don’t know if it’s light or dark. Have begun to doubt the month, maybe the year, even. 

There were things I had planned to do in my life, but they are beginning to fade. Nothing seems important anymore. Not as important or necessary as when I first decided to…can’t even remember what I was supposed to remember or do. 

These new diseases that come out of nowhere like storms rolling in, and rolling out, leaving nothing but death and destruction. At least that is what they are predicting. I should be thankful I am safe. At least I hope I am.  I don’t even remember why we built this place. I think it had something to do with nuclear bombs, or some virus that was supposed to kill us all if we didn’t take precautions. That must have been why I built this place. I think I built it. If I didn’t, who did?

What I miss the most is talking to other people. Being holed up here makes me consider the alternative. Perhaps dying is not as bad as living like this. Alone, no one to talk to, no one to make plans with. There must have been a time when I had plans. It doesn’t seem possible that one could go through life with no plans. There had to be other’s I shared those plans with. I don’t remember, but it seems like I’m not the type of person who would spend his life alone. I think this being alone all this time, is making me crazy.

It is this place. Not big enough to do much but standup, sit down, lay down, really a lot smaller than I’m sure I would have planned, had I had the time. Can't even pace. I always pace when I'm trying to decide, or at least I think I did.

What ever happened, must have happened suddenly. I must have been the only one who made it. We would have had plans to meet here, I would think. We had plans I remember in case of a fire that we were to…it must have been like that, plans to save yourself. 

It appears I have plenty to eat as long as I don’t tire of baked beans and pears, and those little circle spaghettis things.  Got to wonder what people did before they started putting stuff in cans. There is no way anyone could survive without canned food. But then, is that what life has come down to, canned food? 

I can hardly remember what a strawberry or a chocolate chip taste like, even a banana. And I don’t like bananas so it’s probably good in that way. I can remember what they might look like, but that is about it. It has to be that being stuck down here is beginning to cause my mind to go. I can’t even imagine how long I’ve been down here. It seems like years already.

The early forecast, if I remember right, was that it might take a year, maybe two, before this whatever it is, is gone. A whole year, possibly two? Good thing I brought plenty to read. Although, I guess it wouldn’t matter. If I’ve begun to loose memory after however long it has been, I could probably read one book over and over and never remember having read it. Probably good though that I’ve got two books, just in case.

I began to hear sounds that don’t seem natural. Like alarm clocks making a racquet. But then I kind of remember alarm clocks ringing, or buzzing, this sounds more like what I think I remember of being on a submarine, when the distress alarm went off. Like a deep groan that has been fired from a machine gun. It only explodes every six or seven rounds: gaps, like words missing from a song. More like maybe, a persistent evangelist or missionary; how they knock and then wait to see if you might come to the door by accident, knowing of course you won’t, so they knock again. It’s like not taking no for an answer, or at least it seems like it would be.

I am beginning to think my mind is really going this time. I kind of remember stories about people going mad from having been by themselves for long periods of time. Not having companionship, gives you too much time to worry about yourself. Who you are, why, and how come I didn’t consider what being alone for a long period of time could do to me? There must be books about stuff like that.

If I had games to play, computer games, or something to watch. That would be like having someone here to talk to, but I didn’t think of that. I should have for sure. I remember leaving the TV on just so it seemed like there was someone else there; less lonely. But then I guess I was more concerned with staying alive than what would happen if I managed to survive.

I remember how people used to always be planning for death, the hereafter, that kind of thing. But planning for today, tomorrow? Who would ever consider doing that, and yet I should have? They are right about one thing; life does seem to be shorter than short when you are in a spot like this. 

I should write this stuff down in case this ever happens again. I need to keep a record of how to survive, just in case. A journal, that’s it, like Anne Frank. If I keep a journal, write about my experiences, then no matter if I forget or not, I’ll have it to refer to, to remind me. Better than having another person tell you what is going on. People tend to distort what they see; human nature I suppose. We all put things in a light we can see best in. 

Of course that reminds me for some reason for batteries. I’m sure if I thought of putting lantern down here, I would have thought of batteries. But then where would they be. Being in the dark would make things worse. Being underground has already made communication impossible, I think. No phone bars down here, so even if I’d have thought to bring my computer, it wouldn’t have mattered. I need to write this stuff down before I forget. 

It seems to be getting warmer in here. I suppose it could have something to do with what is going on above. I would expect nuclear bombs would cause quite a bit of heat, although I don’t really know. Perhaps everything freezes after the bomb goes off. I don’t remember them telling us much about what to expect if they drop the, “big one,” they called it. 

I had better get some rest. I begin to become irrational when I don’t sleep, and I forgot to bring my Melatonin tablets, or at least I think I did. I need to write this down, Melatonin tablets. There that is a beginning.  Tomorrow when I wake up, if I wake up, I will see the note pad and remember to write everything that happens. 

I will get started now so when I look at it in the morning It’ll make me remember. I suppose I should write the day, like Monday or Tuesday, but I can’t remember what day it is. It doesn’t really matter, I guess. I just have to remember to write things down so if this ever happens again, I’ll be ready.

I’ll write it at the top of each page, so I know how long I’ve been down here. Might help with deciding when to check to see if it’s safe to go outside again. I’ll start now, then go to sleep, then wake up and start again. Now that’s a plan I can live with, if I can remember that is what I’m doing. Well, better get to sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day. I’ll write this down for tomorrow, so I don’t forget. Good to get started on something.

Tuesday: Day 2