I moved my wristwatch back an hour. I transported a couch cushion back three hours. There's something comfortable about working on a time machine then having a duplicate cushion show up on your couch. I knew that I would get the machine working eventually because I had proof in front of me.

Or rather, behind me. I sat comfortably leaning against two pillows until the point when I sent one of them back.

Today, while I was working, my windows were blacked out. It looked like it was with tar, sprayed on from a distance. My apartment is on the second floor of my building.

So now I'm positive that my only means of escape from this apartment is if I travel into the past with my machine and leave before I ever meet the hoodlums who are tormenting me.

If that doesn't work, I'll see if I can bribe them. I don't know. I'm much too busy to think of contingency plans.

Back to work.