8:52 a.m. Hell can't get any hotter than this. My truck is like a greenhouse and even with the engine running, the AC can't keep up. I wish I'd worn shorts.
I am irritable and worried. My new investigator...the one that I thought was so great (we'll call him Bones because he reminds me of an osteology professor I used to have) was supposed to work two cases this weekend and I just discovered that he didn't. I should have been keeping better track of him, but he was so good and competent that I gave him too much autonomy too soon. Now I can't seem to raise him on the phone to find out what happened. He'd better be dead or near it, for his sake.
I have been scrambling all morning and think I got another investigator to take the cases Bones blew off. I'm still going to catch hell for it, though.
I am staring at traffic out the window and wishing for a slurpi (slurpy? slurp...whatever) from 7-Eleven when I witness a car accident not 10 feet from my truck. I jump as I hear a crash and similtaneously watch a pick-up truck smash into the back of a black sedan. The sedan tries to pull away and the entire rear bumper tears off. It looks like somebody out there is having a worse day than me.