Well, the hopeful news is that my temperature is still 98.9, but then there’s Tom and God. Will Tom cum? Will God change his mind and let us have a child? The idea of it seems too good to be true, so right now, I’m trying really damn hard not to get my hopes up and to expect things to not go my way. When it really matters to me and concerns things I want really bad, they never do go my way, so what else is new? I have to keep telling myself the truth - I’m not gonna get pregnant. I’m gonna get my period in a couple of weeks.

Tom did exactly what I thought he’d do. See? There is a pattern with him and I realize I called him a liar for nothing and that he does want a kid. However, there’s no hurry in his mind, either, so I believe he still wants to “play around” with me a little longer. In his mind, once I get pregnant, he can’t go back to playing with me on the issue, so now’s his chance to get a few more months of doing so.

On Tuesday, he promised me he’d catch up on his sleep for this morning. That would mean going to bed last night early, but what did he do? He left a message around 9 last night saying he was fiddling with the TV reception, but that he’d been dozing off here and there, then was going to bed. Then at 10:30, he left a message saying he had to get back out of bed to tell me about the groceries he bought, then was gonna go back to bed and I could get him up at 5:00. He sounded fairly awake when he left the messages and you know what I think? I think he deliberately stayed up till 10:30, never did doze off, and wants to be exhausted so he can’t cum. God, I hope I’m wrong, but I really do believe I know better. I see the pattern here and I think it’ll give him great pleasure to see me bummed at his not getting off in the morning and I’m almost positive he won’t seem the least bit bummed about it. I hope I’m wrong about his wanting a few more months or so to play with me and right about feeling he’ll stop this once he’s had his fill of it.

I also think there’s a chance that he could be reading my computer journals and taking advantage of my feelings and suspicions, but that’s not gonna stop me from saying what I’ve got to say. Not in my written journals and not on the computer.

Maybe what he’s doing, if I really am right with what my gut tells me, is more subconscious. Perhaps before last July he both consciously and subconsciously didn’t want a kid and now he consciously does, but subconsciously he’s not quite ready yet.

Except for the things I need that are really important (thank God), he does seem to enjoy playing around with the things that I’d like. For example, he’ll do anything to make sure I have food and proper medical attention. And to keep me safe and away from spiders and shit like that that I don’t exactly like, like a caring, loving guy. But when it comes to putting stuff back the way I’ve placed it and stuff I ask him to do concerning crumbs on the chair and where he puts his mail, he may as well tell me to fuck off. I told him that if he told me he is obsessed with me picking up after him and replacing stuff after him, fine. I’ll do so and that’d be perfectly OK, but he denies he isn’t deliberately doing this and that he tries oh so hard. Then why is it that after each time he says he’s gonna try harder, more stuff is misplaced?

I just hope that together, we can stick to the stuff we start. That means the kid, finishing the back room, the yard, and the patio. And I hate it when he says he’s gonna do something he never does. He said he’d clean the oven. Right!

A couple of months ago I said I was anxious to get the sound blocks done cuz cooler weather means more street people. I told myself I shouldn’t have said that so firmly, cuz I had a feeling he’d take advantage of that and so far, all he is is talk and no action with the blocks. Was it worth his spending the money on the stuff for it just to stall on it for this long and play with me on it? I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t finish the blocks till May.

All I can do is hope to hell I come back here after he’s gone to work and say that I was dead wrong and that he got off just fine, but most of my feelings about when he’ll get off are right, so for me to be wrong now at this time of month, does seem way too good to be true, even though I know it won’t make a baby.

Here’s another example of something I figured he’d do that he did do. I left a message for him before I went to bed yesterday, asking him to tell me what he thought about my throwing myself on a liquid diet if I were to hit 108 pounds. I figured he’d either say nothing about it or tell me we’ll discuss it live. Well, I was right. He said we’d discuss it live.

Later...

Well, I hope my horoscope is wrong. I checked mine and his on AOL and they say emotional tension is a threat for me today and Tom’s got something troubling him and he’s obsessive in love and domineering. Two days from now they say my dream is quite possible. Right!

Later...

Well, I was right. Tom and God did just what I knew they’d do. I hate God! Oh, I just hate him with a passion!

Just as I knew, he was dead tired when he got up and then he really pissed me off by saying I make a big deal of the TV reception and he knew I wanted to see the movies I asked him to record. First of all, I didn’t make a big deal of it when I left a message. I told him not to worry about it if he couldn’t record the shows I wanted to see. I never told him it meant so much to me (more than trying to make a kid) that he had to stay up that late to take care of it.

So, afterward, I told him that if he wasn’t mad at me, my temperature was up and I’d like to go plant a seed, rather than argue. I know I saw a grin on his face as he said, “OK,” that was rather “mischievous.”

I got off and true to my belief, he didn’t. Yes, I felt like he was holding back, too.

So, after sex, I told him I thought he wanted and planned to be tired and that he may have a subconscious thing saying he doesn’t want a kid half as much as I do and that as far as God’s concerned, I don’t have a full bag of rights and benefits as a woman that Tom says I do. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut, cuz all my telling him of how I felt did was piss him off. He said what I said was really cruel. I should’ve just kept my opinions and suspicions to myself. Saying how I feel couldn’t change it, anyway.

I think, though, that most of this is definitely due to God. I’m sure he’s up there right now smiling and getting a real fucking kick out of this. It’s like he just has to come between us. I know what God’s doing, too. He and I both know I’m sterile, but I’ve never “seen” it so to speak. Well, I really want to hurry up and see it and have my husband see it, so we can move on, but no, God’s gonna take his sweet time so he can play with my head before sending the final blow my way.

Then Tom went on to say that there’s no magical time for a woman to conceive. Yeah, I know, but if God were out of the way, I really think that today and yesterday would’ve been more likely due to the higher temperature and the light cramps. I wouldn’t be surprised if God had us hit it too early and too late for another year. Then, Tom will cum more and we’ll have to have known we had to have hit it right and then it’ll become totally obvious to Tom who’s right. If the right times are around mid-cycle, and not precisely at mid-cycle, then I really am sterile, cuz according to what I’ve read, his getting off a few days ago should’ve done it.

He keeps insisting I was wrong about saying he’d never cum and wrong about saying I’d never be pregnant. Well, I was wrong about the cumming part, but I haven’t been wrong about the pregnancy part, now have I? If I’m ever pregnant, then I’ll take back all I’ve said about it, but until then, what can I think? I don’t think any of the shit that’s gone on is a coincidence. The only reason for his not cumming (regardless of what was going through his mind) was for God to tease me with that. Now to not get pregnant, and then to see that I was right all along about my gut feeling. There were always 3 steps to this little game of God’s. 1. Dealing with his not cumming. 2. Not getting pregnant when he does cum. 3. Seeing my worst fear of sterility be proven to be true. That’s all that’s been going on here and will be going on here and I’ll bet my weight gain is my punishment for trying to “disobey” God.

I really want to just quit this so-called job. I think it’s just gonna cause more and more problems if we go on with it. More suspicions about Tom that may or may not be true and more trouble from God. If I just give in to God and avoid sex during the more likely times a woman can conceive, then I won’t have to be suspicious or paranoid about Tom, and I won’t be fighting God or letting him get to step 3. I think Tom and I should just have sex for fun.

For the first time in a while, I had another baby dream, but I know it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything like the Arizona and money dreams did.

When I asked him what he thought about my hitting 108 pounds and liquidating myself he said I should do whatever makes me happy. He couldn’t have said that in the message he left? See? This continues my belief that he wants to instill patience in me. He really seems to enjoy making me wait on just about everything unless it’s something I really need. Well, at least he doesn’t make me wait on the things I need. I’m grateful for that, cuz most people would make people wait for things they need.

I’m sorry I hurt Tom and angered him, but if I’m wrong about what I suspect of him, then why is it that he does almost everything I do suspect of him? This is why I can’t help feeling the way I do. I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to piss him off and I want to be dead wrong, but I haven’t been yet.

At just after 7:30, I heard about 3 seconds of a car stereo, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

President Clinton was re-elected. Let me guess, he promised to fight for gay rights but is full of shit just like last time?

The scale says 104 and I have a feeling I’d better enjoy seeing that number, cuz 106 is gonna be more and more of a regular number. That’s how it usually works.

Later...

Tom says they recently cashed the check we sent in for those puzzles. It’s about time, too.

We also had to get 3 more CDs as part of our membership agreement with Columbia House. He didn’t want any, so I picked out The Emotions, The Spinners, and Madonna’s extended dance mixes of previous hits.

Last night I made smaller beef ribs that Tom got. The sauce I made came out great again, but the ribs were horrible. One bite and I was mortified, and so was he. It tasted like lamb, which I’ve come to hate. He says there may have been something wrong with it. We hated to waste it, but we dumped it as neither of us could’ve eaten that shit if we were paid.

Oh, brother! Our lovely neighbor’s jeep is next door, so I’ll expect to hear him go blasting out any time now.

Later...

Well, the freeloaders just left. I don’t think what I heard would’ve woken me up, but it was still pretty rude, selfish, and obnoxious.

Holy shit, though! I was completely right just now about something else I suspected. I said to myself, “How much you wanna bet that your temperature’s down now since you already know for a fact that once again, God wouldn’t have a change of heart and let you hit it right.” Sure enough, it’s just below normal. That little fuck! Yeah, I made his day, though, didn’t I? The fucker must be so damn psyched. That controlling, cruel, unfair sicko! Yes, the vision of the period I’ll get in a couple of weeks is growing clearer by the moment. God will never let us hit it right, even if there is no hitting it right for me, till he wants me to enter step 3. I wonder when that’ll be? I guess it’ll be in a year or two. This is so cruel of him to not let Tom be able to see that I am sterile so we can both move on. How can a God be so sick as to torture my mind, body and soul like this? When’s this shit gonna stop? When is he ever gonna just leave me the fuck alone? Can’t he just let it become evident that I’m sterile, let us move on and let me live out my true destiny with no hard feelings? And not give me something else I want as bad that I can’t have. I swear, it’s like everyone has a storyline. Something that’s literally the story of their lives and mine’s definitely wanting the impossible. I’m so sick of feeling like a half-woman, too.

I can’t help myself and no one else can help me, so when and how am I ever gonna get off this baby trip and just let it go?! Like I said, it’s the same fucking thing as with the woman and the singing and other stuff and I’m so sick of this same old bullshit pattern! I guess it’s just a matter of time just like it was with other stuff in the past.

I’m so fucking mad right now! At first I was sadder about this fucking bullshit, but now it’s pissing me off like never before. I’m so mad right now that if you put that ass or someone else I’ve never been particularly fond of in this room right now, I’d probably either kill them or seriously disable them.

I’m just so fucking fed up, so pissed, and I’m so fucking sick of God controlling my life, my body, my mind, my soul and almost my whole goddamn fucking life. If it’s not God’s doing and is something else, be it a devil, or an ancestor, I just wish they’d leave me the fuck alone! I’m not gonna take this fucking shit, anymore. I mean it. I may never be able to take control over my life, but by God, I’m so fucking sick of this fucking mother-fucking shit that I’ve never thought so seriously about going the other way. That means that I’ll just be on the side of whatever the fuck’s fucking with me. I’ll help make sure, too, that I don’t get pregnant (no problem! Huh?). Then I’ll take control of what’s left of my life and I’ll do something with it. I’ll get some kind of job and just go with it and fuck Tom’s belief that it’ll aggravate the situation. Oh yeah? Well, like I said, this is a no-win situation, but I refuse as of this day to let it rule and ruin my life. I’ve had it. OK, God, or whoever the fuck you are? You ought to be really proud of me, cuz I’m gonna make real damn sure that I help you out.

Later...

Last night I kind of made up my mind to quit watching TV. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about it being hit or miss as far as the reception goes and it’s always the same bullshit on TV, anyway. Guess I’m not so tolerant of repetition myself. However, I really like to sit in front of the tube when I’m eating popcorn, so I turned it on and the first thing I hear is, “With God, anything is possible.” 

So, naturally, I started to change the channel, and then I said, "No this is what God wants. Just listen to it and deal with it."

Maybe if I not only stop fighting whatever’s ruling me and stop hating it, things will get better and I may come to live a lot easier with my built-in birth control system. Maybe I’ll even come to enjoy it and find all kinds of blessings in it that I’ll really appreciate.

Anyway, this half-woman is gonna go make a doggie mug.

Later...

The phone just rang and I thought it’d be Andy. This is the time he usually calls and he likes to go on and on. I didn’t feel like playing phone today, anyway, but it turned out that Tom left a message. He wanted to know if I was OK and that we didn’t exactly start the day off well. I left him a message letting him know I was fine and that I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. It’s too old. I also told him, that it’s strictly up to him, but I really just want to have sex for fun. I still don’t think this job will produce a kid and I believe it’ll just cause more problems.

I meant it when I said my days of fighting God are over. No more. No more fighting losing battles and trying to change destiny. Anyway, I’m sure Tom will agree with me. Then again, maybe not. We’ll see. Once again, I think he’ll say he disagrees with me, but we should do whatever makes me happy. Well, we can’t do whatever makes me happy, so we’ll do what’s right and what’s our only choice.

It felt like my tooth was bleeding, but I’m not sure. Right in between the impacted tooth and the one that’s been in front of it felt like it could’ve been bleeding, but after I swabbed at it with a Q-tip, I don’t know. There wasn’t any blood on it.

Later...

There’s a city van next door right now that says, ‘Neighborhood Improvement & Housing.’ So, I called information to get their number and if the woman knew what she was saying, she says it’s some kind of inspection thing. Whether you rent or own, you can complain to them about something inside your house, or if another house is an eyesore, you can bitch about that to them. I’ve seen this van there a few other times, so I’d say that if this isn’t some friend of theirs, they either have a problem within their house or someone else’s. My guess is it’d be next door’s dogs if it were someone else’s, cuz our place isn’t an eyesore and we haven’t done anything to violate zoning laws. I don’t see how they can sleep with those dogs. The Ms could, cuz their own dog did the same thing and they had a house full of kids screaming day in and day out.

I still have a feeling that they may move between December and February. Especially now that I see this van. It tells me that if it isn’t a friend who’s come to see them, they’re not happy here.

I just jumped up to check and that van’s gone now. It was there about 45 minutes, so this tells me it’s less likely to be a problem within their house, cuz why would it take that long to point the problem out? I think it’s either a friend or they were there long enough to hear those two dogs in their bedrooms only a few feet away. If they’re complaining about the dogs, good luck to them cuz they’ll never succeed in getting any results. Anyone that can let their dogs go on and on like that obviously doesn’t give a shit about their neighbors. All the more so with that letter they got about it and all the more so that they couldn’t care less about the dogs. Anyone who leaves their dogs out 24/7 and isn’t afraid to protect them and shut them up and bring them inside after getting a letter about someone possibly shooting them doesn’t care. I’m sure they said to themselves, “Who gives a fuck about the neighbors? Let them shoot the dogs. We’ll just replace them.”

I left Tom a message about the van and I also erased the one where I said I just wanted to have sex for fun, cuz I already did make myself clear on that this morning and I think he realizes that this may be best, even though he did say something about giving it time to work without blaming him for stuff that he isn’t doing. Well, I’m not worried about it, after all, cuz I don’t think he’ll be initiating sex anymore on a daily basis. Also, it can’t hurt to have fun occasionally or frequently, cuz like I said, I’m not gonna try to fight fate and I know damn well that I can’t fight fate, anyway.

Later...

Well, I guess my mother figures for sure I sent the letter, can’t take a joke and decided not to send those household items. If it were just up to her, though, she may send the letter back, with or without the stuff she’s got, and write her famous “grow up” across the letter. If it were up to Dad alone, he may send a quick note with the same mumbo jumbo back.

Right now, I smell the faint odor of smoke. I hope it’s only the sulfur from the matches I’ve been using.

Right now, I’m also doing one of my favorite things to do and that’s wondering. I wonder when this baby bullshit will be over in the way that I can live more easily without the bad emotions I’ve been having and when Tom will get off his we’re gonna have a kid trip? They say that anger comes after depression when it comes to major issues in a person’s life and that this is a sign of transition that turns into being able to live with whatever the problem was or is. I hope so! I’m gonna work really hard, like never before, to go along with fate/God and quit dreaming impossible dreams. It’s time to move on.

I also wonder what is the date that next door does move? What will the new neighbors be like? How many dogs and kids will they have? Will they blast their car stereo, too? And what will the neighbors after them be all about? And after them?