Maybe Tom really can count my cycle better than I can. At least for this month. He says I’m due for my period on the 28th. I had thought it was due on Christmas, but I sure as hell don’t feel like my period’s just 5 days away. And also, what luck with the tits! For the last several months, my tits were murderous after just 1-2 weeks after my period, but this month they’re virtually free of soreness. I wonder why?

Watch - if we screw this weekend, Tom will have no problem at least getting in there, since he knows it’s the wrong time for a fertile woman to catch anything. Well, he’s not gonna be the only liar in this household from now on. He’ll say he wants the kid he doesn’t want. Meanwhile, I’ll be saying I don’t want the kid I do want. Maybe that’ll be the only way to get him to curb his games and for me to deal with it and avoid another 4 years of this bullshit.

I liked the form that Bob enclosed in his letter to me today that says: Every day of my life I’m forced to add another name to the list of people who just piss me the fuck off! Then there is a cartoon character looking angry and numbers 1-5 with lines next to them for that list. I think this ought to go to the freeloaders, along with their letter.

My schedule is about the worst it can be for a weekend with the people that live around here. Between all the door slamming and probable ball games that’ll occur, who knows just how peacefully I’ll sleep?

I still haven’t heard the dog and he’s still parking in front of the carport like he does in the winters. If the dog’s still there, and I don’t see how it couldn’t be there, I’ll know it by the next time I go to bed for sure, which will be around noon. I’m sure it’s just cuz of my schedule, that’s the reason why I haven’t heard it. The music would be more of a problem than it has been (at least that I’ve been aware of) if the dog were gone. And of course, you never know if Tom’s been leveling with me as far as what he may have heard.

Maybe he didn’t leave at 7 AM yesterday after all. His car was there when I looked at 8:30, all the way till I crashed, which was close to noon.

Later...

Now I really, really wonder if the dog’s gone. It seems to be gone, cuz it’s just been too quiet. No early evening fits. No breakfast time fits. On weekends I’d hear it more cuz the assholes are home more then.

If the dog’s gone - why? I really wonder. Why?

We screwed earlier and yup - no problem getting in there. No problem getting in on the side, no problem getting in up top. We really ought to screw more often before and after my period.

Tom brought up an interesting possibility. Could the dramatic decrease in nicotine be why my tits are less sore? I never heard anything about nicotine causing tit soreness. Only caffeine and pregnancy, but I’ll never have to worry about that one now, will I?

I was laughing my ass off at the thought of a certain Christmas gift for his family, not that we’d ever get any such thing. My family would’ve gotten a kick out of it, though. I’m talking about puke. Fake puke made out of a rubbery plastic. My folks, Larry, Tammy, Nana, Pa, and I, were once fooling around with a piece of puke like that one Chanukah night when I was around 8 years old.

I remember a glass of wine you couldn’t drink from, too. The liquid was inside the bottom and sides of the glass.

Tom told me the fly in the ice cube was popular when he was about that age (right around when I was born), but I’ve never heard of it.