Today was by far the worst day in the last five weeks. It all started when I was ripped out of my peaceful sleep this afternoon by a shotgun blast coming from a nearby neighbor's house. I lay dazed momentarily, unsure if I was dreaming the sound and startled myself awake. Then came another. I scrambled out of bed, grabbed my phone off my nightstand and made my way down the hallway.
I could hear people yelling from outside as I came to the top of the stairway. Running down the stairs two at a time I spun around the corner at the bottom of the stairs and dashed to the living room window. I saw two teenage boys on four-wheelers with gas cans on their laps fly by on the road. Our front door was wide open, but my mother nor my brother were in sight. I yelled for my mother and I didn't get a response. I hurried out the front door onto the porch and scanned the yard quickly, but they weren't out there. I ran around the side of the house yelling for them again. Still nothing. My adrenaline was flowing wildly as the feeling of panic began to overwhelm me.
Twenty yards to the left of where I was standing I could see my neighbor, Mike, standing on the edge of his property with a couple other neighbors. He was screaming and waving his shotgun about angrily. From behind me, I heard several emergency vehicle sirens whining in the distance, becoming louder and louder as they approached the house. I headed to the backyard which was directly behind Mike's house and thankfully I found my brother and mother unharmed. They were standing next to a flipped over ATV and what appeared to be an injured individual. There was a gas can on it's side with a majority of it's contents spilled across the dirt driveway in the backyard. As I got closer, I could see that Mike cleanly blew out both back tires on the ATV with one of his rounds. Stupid kids. Gasoline is like gold these days and stealing it could cost you your life. It didn't look as though the kid had any severe injuries, but he did have some seriously intense scrapes on his back and left thigh. Looks like is an example of what we're going to be dealing with more and more as the days go by.
After our statements were made, the police departed and the accident scene was cleaned up, my mom and I sat on the porch drinking coffee as we discussed the events of the past couple days. I work so much that we don't get to talk as often as we'd like. I told her about the concerns of the drivers at work. She said my Dad called a couple hours ago to let her know that he'd be home in a few days for his "unplanned, unpaid time-off". His company is struggling already.
Fighting back tears, she expressed her concern for our situation. Money was going to get really tight if my Dad doesn't have any work. She said he was considering applying at other trucking companies in hopes of attaining more reliable employment for the time being. In other words...until the oil runs out. Once it does, my Dad has an extensive resume and he can seek work just about anywhere. She said he was thinking of applying for work within the military again. He won't have any problems qualifying for a government job. He was a police officer, professional canine trainer, detective, search and rescue official and political activist. He is well known for all of these professions. If you Googled him, you'd find quite a few hits for websites and articles. I assured her that I would help out as much as she needed. I do live here with them and I don't plan on moving out just to struggle on my own at this point. Additionally, I believe we have to stick together in this. It's the only way we'll make it.
The worst part of my day happened right as I was walking out the door at work. We always finish late on Friday or Saturday (whichever is the last day of the work week) due to the preparations we must make for the following work week. Paperwork, ugh! What a bore! Anyhow, I stepped out of the door onto the walkway when suddenly a diesel tanker truck came racing around the sharp bend of the road that runs around the front of our building. The driver was going at such a high rate of speed that when he snagged the curb right in front of the building, the truck flipped over on to the front yard of the truck rental place across the street and continued to roll two more times. There was a flash of light and in an instant, the truck exploded with a force like a nuclear weapon that sent a scorching heat wave making me sweat even at about a hundred yards away. Shielding my eyes, I witnessed the driver attempting to climb out of the cab. Engulfed in flames, he was screaming and flailing his arms. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I was sick to my stomach.
A few moments later I opened my eyes to view the carnage once more. Frank and Pam came rushing out the door. I could see the police lights on the buildings adjacent to our building. I figured he probably stole the tanker and they must have been chasing him. Frank asked me what happened. I replied, "A casualty of war."
We parted ways shortly after the incident. Pam called me as I was driving home. She asked me if I was okay. I said no. After witnessing all the events I had today, I really wasn't okay. I was scared, angry, confused, and distraught. I'm starting to think that maybe I should just quit my job and find a way to generate revenue within the security of my own home. I never imagined that there would be this much chaos over a commodity and I sure as hell don't want to die because of it.
That was my day. I'm glad it's over. The only problem is that the sun is rising again as I type. A new day is about to begin but I'm going to bed to get some sleep before I even attempt to endure anymore stress. Good night...and of course...don't let the economy bite.