I apologize for using crayons. It has been forever since I’ve actually had to write anything down, as opposed to typing it out on a keyboard or Blackberry. My hand is already beginning to hurt, and I don’t even remember how to write in cursive anymore other than my name.

I don’t know who you are, or how you’ve come across what I’m about to write. Maybe you’re someone like me, someone clever or stupid enough how to make things last for a bit or perhaps you’re reading this and it is over. I hope you haven’t found me nearby. Or maybe you’re one of them, carelessly flipping through as you faintly remember what writing is, your sunless eyes glancing over it but not really comprehending it. I hope it isn’t me doing that.

Whatever the case may be, here I am. This is my son’s room, and it’s the farthest away from the heat of the morning sun, which beats down on the other side of the house where my daughter’s room is. The air conditioning stopped working a few days ago, as I suspected it would, when the electricity was cut. I’m not sure if the power is down in the whole town, or if someone drove into a pole or a transformer blew. Who knows these days, but as I knew it wasn’t going to last too long afterwards.

The bathtub, which is a really nice old iron tub with clawed feet, has been filled up with water – though I try not to use it as the water pressure is still good. Funny, I always laughed when they told me to fill up the bathtub before an emergency, but I didn’t think I’d ever have to do it. I’m saving that as a reserve as long as the sink is still working. The toilet still works, which is a God send, as it’s hot enough up here where that would start to stink rather quickly. I wash myself in the sink daily, and hope the water pressure holds out for a little while longer.

Most of the canned vegetables and dry food, I’ve stacked in the linen closet in the hallway outside of the bathroom. I think I’ve got enough for about two weeks, if I use things sparingly.

I sleep in my daughter’s room at night by the floor, as it gives me a good vantage point to the front of the house and is generally much cooler at night, whereas I spend my days in my son’s room, which is where I am writing to you now. There’s mound of toys around me, most of it stuff he played with once and never used again, and I always swore I’d try to throw some of it away – but I never got around to it. I’m glad I didn’t, as it reminds me of him, which is bittersweet, all things considered.

So I guess I’ll continue to write as much as I can, as it helps pass the time and keeps me occupied. It’s early afternoon, and I need to see if I can make my ways downstairs to get some more things in a bit. Wish me luck, and if this is the sole entry, pray for me!