That's what runs through my head as I look around from my Stephen King novel while riding the train. I remember one morning walking to work and being repulsed more than usual by the people talking to themselves in the streets or also just walking to work, but just much too slowly. IZ HOT. WALK FASTER.
The summer before I left for college, I read "It." This year, after I returned from what I like to call "my summer vacay," I finished "Dead Zone," and I'm now about halfway through "'Salem's Lot." Before all this started, I'd be watching a ton of X-Files episodes on Netflix. Needless to say that doors opening by themselves and creaking while doing so, or when someone looks at me too long on the train, has taken on new and creepy-ass meaning. Hissing at people is still socially unacceptable, right? We'll see.
Also, speaking of X-Files, while I was watching all 3 seasons in rapid succession, I got really tired of seeing Scully get punched and hit and kidnapped and implanted. Ugh, gets very tedious. Part of me wants to look through the gaggle of discussions about the series, but I feel like that would be a rabbit hole that, once caught in, I would never be able to emerge from un-paranoid about everything. If you don't already know how I feel about ants, just know that I don't need anymore peculiarities in my world.
Guys, I found out I really like barley! Neat.
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