I’m kind of uncomfortable today. Not a whole lot makes me uncomfortable. I’m one of those “I don’t give a fuck” kind of people. Clearly I do give a fuck, but when I actually become uncomfortable, I do a damn good job of hiding it, thus keeping my true feelings hidden.
Why am I uncomfortable Mr. Journal? Because I got a LOT of Christmas presents yesterday. More than I deserve in my opinion, and quite a few more than I think is okay, and “normal,” especially considering the times we live in.
I can’t recall exactly who gave me what as I sit here writing this, but I received all manner of strange things. Obviously they are all homemade or scavenged, but I got a LOT of gifts. It was creepy.
I woke up fairly early Christmas morning because we were putting on a big breakfast for the kids in the cafeteria. I wanted to get down there early to help. I checked the video feeds out of habit, and radioed to Hal and Abby who were on graveyard shift last night to check in. Both said they saw nothing all night other than a few stray animals in the woods. Abby said she thought she saw an actual dog, but Hal thought it was a fox or coyote. I might check the tapes later to double check, but I have a case of the fuckits right now.
Anyway, I took a quick shower after turning the generator on and letting it warm the hot water tank. I gave myself a celebratory beat off session while that was going on, and once I was dressed up and ready, I left Hall E. When I got to the cafeteria, there were piles of wrapped presents piled under the large tree. I guess something should be said about the amazing amount of Christmas wrapping paper people had stored in their homes. A few of the team went house to house and picked up the rolls in closets to get this all done. Thanks to them, the kids got everything wrapped.
Anyway, I smiled, and went about helping the fairly large group of people already there. The breakfast was pancakes with what turned out to be still good maple syrup, fresh eggs, fresh bread, fresh milk, stale coffee and tea, and some of the last of the orange juice concentrate we still had. The kids rolled in, excited as balls, and the remainder of the adults that weren’t committed to safety and security came in as well. Many of the folks brought more presents, and by the time we were all there, all accounted for, there had to be a hundred presents there.
After breakfast, the wrapping paper saw its end. Melissa, Amanda and Michelle disseminated the presents to the people they were gifted to, and time and time again the presents were brought over to me. I took a seat far off to the side, out of the way, and they kept bringing them over to me, stacking them higher and higher.
When it was all said and done, I had presents stacked waist high.
Yeah, I felt a little uncomfortable. Of course everyone else there was super happy that I had so many presents, and I seriously think that they all sat there, waiting for me to start opening mine before they began to open theirs. I obliged them.
I had jams and jellies made from the berries we’ve picked from the campus bushes. I had loaves of fresh baked bread made from the eggs from our chickens, and the little bit of flour we have left. I got gloves from the Air Force guys (nomex, thank you very much dudes), and a pile of CDs to burn into the laptop here from Abby. Turns out while she was doing house searches she was collecting discs. I listen to a lot of music, and the new stuff will increase my overall level of musical culture.
I received homemade cards thanking me for giving people a safe place to live, and food to eat, as well as a nice new maglite, and a container of lotion from Kevin. Turns out, he really does know me well.
I feel like a major league dick for not getting anyone a gift.
I also feel… very weird about all the attention, and the gifts. It seemed like everyone felt the need to give to me to thank me for what’s happened here. I appreciate the sentiment and all, but it’s just… odd. I felt like these people were leaving offerings at my altar for Christ’s sake. It was fucked up.
I guess I’ll get over it. I left all the food downstairs in the kitchen here in Hall E so the other folks living in the building could reap the benefits. All I’ve smelt since yesterday is the scent of toast and jelly. It’s a nice smell.
Sigh. I wonder if this is how Kings got egos. When the people in charge have their asses kissed as much as I get mine kissed, you can’t help but get a little egotistical about things. It’s empowering. It’s a great feeling to have so many people look up to you. To feel like a success finally.
Well, to feel like a success despite my largest single failure. I’ve been thinking a lot about Cassie since Mallory and I went splitsville. It’s probably because with no regular sex I’ve been thinking a lot about the sex I’ve had with others. Cassie was the person I had the most sex with… so that makes sense. It also makes sense that I’d be thinking of her more because of the holidays. The last real Christmas I had was with her, and opening presents yesterday made me think of the last time I opened presents. Which made me think of her, and you get the drift.
She’s been on my mind the past couple of days, and I’ve been thinking a lot about how I never went to see her, or find her, or whatever that day. It still haunts me. All these long, hard months later and when I am alone, I go right back to that one big mistake.
I wonder if that was all part of this master plan on the part of… God or whatever. Have Adrian make one huge judgment error so he can survive the apocalypse and become the savior of fucking mankind. Have Adrian make one huge error so he can torture himself when he tries to sleep at night, and when he wakes up and night, and when he eats just one serving of food, alone, yet again.
I guess this will bother me forever. At least when I was fucking Mallory I forgot about it. I wonder if I could talk one of the women here into fucking me regularly so I could squash down these memories and feelings of guilt.
I’m also seriously thinking about doing some dangerous outside the wall runs to get the adrenaline flowing more, shake the case of the pussies I had, and to distract myself. All my jogs, and pushups, and sit ups and shit are getting my body into shape, but they are leaving my mind unoccupied far too much every day.
Sigh. It’s good that I can rant here in the journal. If I shared everything that haunted me I’d ruin every sense of confidence that anyone had in me. I need to be bulletproof. I need to be the man that got shot, and got up like it was a mosquito bite. I need to be the man that doesn’t pull the trigger on a girl because it’s the RIGHT thing to do, and not because he was too afraid to do it.
I need to be stronger. I need to be a… dammit. I need to be a role model.
Ha. There’s the big cosmic fucking joke of them all. Adrian Ring, failure at most things in life the role model. The leader of men and women, the supposed savior of mankind. If anyone here is the savior it’s Michelle, or even Kevin. Fuck Abby would be a better person than I am.
I’m far too flawed to be a good role model. I feel like I’m faking it.
I feel like I’m being far too goddamn melodramatic the day after a pretty sweet Christmas.
There have been some interesting developments today. MGR is reporting a slight surge in the undead presence downtown. Previously they’d been seeing perhaps one or two a day, far off in the distance moving about, but for three straight days now they’ve seen as many as twelve a day. They have gotten good at paying attention to the individual undead they are seeing, and keeping detailed notes on them too, so when they say they’re seeing new undead, they mean it. These are NEW faces, brought in or moved about from elsewhere.
Kevin and Mike brought up the attacks on MGR by the living when I was out, and how we never really tracked the last of those people down. We have no idea if they are out there still, or if they are part of a larger group of survivors that we need to be worried about.
As a result of the increased undead presence near MGR we’re seriously considering adding more bodies there for regular security. We’re restocking MGR early in the New Year, and we’re likely leaving one extra person and adding a few hundred rounds of ammo to their stockpile on hand. Martin is also drafting up ideas to fortify the lower entrances yet again in the event the building is assaulted once more.
Either way, we’re devoting extra time on the video feeds to making sure we’re aware if anything happens there. If they’re hit hard and are unable to radio for help, we want to see it, and respond in force with our QRF.
Hell will have nothing on us.