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Wednesday - 10:48 p.m.

There was a pleasant surprise waiting for me when I got home from my shift at the record store I work at part-time. The front door to my apartment had been fixed and re-hung.

They also changed the lock, but they neglected to leave me a new key.

After I had crawled through my kitchen window, I found a note stuck to the inside of my front door with a blue pushpin. The note read, "Dear asshole: New key on backorder. Should be here by Saturday. I have the master key with me, and that’s where it’s staying. Deal with it. Love, G"

I'm holding the note in my hand now. It is scented with some sort of old lady perfume. I'm guessing that G is either the name of my neighbor who owns the large barking dogs, and who is also the residence's handyman, or my crazy landlady. I’m guessing it’s my crazy landlady since it absolutely reeks of old lady perfume. It’s like a mixture of lavender and stale rock candy.

Regardless of any of that, I really need to move.

In other news, Mitchell got into another car accident yesterday. That makes nine in the past six days. I am now convinced that Mitchell's car is a magnet to which all other cars on the road are uncontrollably attracted. The odd thing is that with this latest accident, like the previous eight, there was no real significant damage to the vehicle. Mitchell's car is now covered in tiny surface scrapes and small dents but is otherwise perfectly fine.

All but one of these crashes has happened while Mitchell was parked, or stopped at a light. The first one happened while Mitchell was on his way to my apartment. I had told him not to drive since there is a distinct lack of parking in front of my building, but he did. While heading south on Summit Street, an ambulance ran a red light and clipped his front bumper. The ambulance didn't have its lights on or its siren “sirening” or whatever it is that sirens do. Mitchell stopped and got out only to see the ambulance stop briefly and then speed off. It was a hit and run ambulance. I’ve never heard of those before.

I guess Mitchell's roommates (who are also his bandmates); have been out following random ambulances to see which one hit him, so they can avenge him. Mitchell's bandmates (who are also his roommates), scare me.

I'm going to take the padlock off of the trunk that Shannon had left me in her will.

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