Now that the long weekend’s just about over, and now that it’s later in the evening, I can relax enough to write. Plus, I’m alone now, cuz he’s gone to work, so I can concentrate better. I don’t concentrate well with others around even if they’re quiet and not right near me. The weekend went surprisingly, but pleasantly quiet. There were weekend stereos cruising through, but all next door gave me were some door slams. I’m still blessed with there being no dog over there, and the music has yet to become a problem again. If the door slamming’s as deliberate as I think it is, they may assume, but they don’t know for a fact, that the door slamming gets on my nerves too, so maybe, like I said before, they suspect me and don’t want to do anything that they know may provoke me into harming them or the house. Or maybe the door slams were cuz they heard us talking out back when he was working on the old washer and they wanted to be heard back. One of the door slams they gave me was so fucking loud, the house shook. Then later, at 10:40 PM, the shithead went out and slammed me a few more times, so I went out and pelted back and beat an old waterproof radio on the side of the house by their house a few times.

Later...

I felt a bit warm and dizzy there, so I stepped out for some cool air and you know what? Unless they’re in bed early, they might not even be home next door, cuz there are no lights on.

Anyway, Tom fixed the old washer and we washed the new, big comforter that won’t fit in our stackables. It was pretty funny what with the washer being out on the patio!

The weekend may have been peaceful enough as far as any neighbors go, but some stereo, that you could tell was miles away, was a real annoyance for a good hour or more from out back. It could’ve been worse, though, since it could only be heard out back, but what a sick world we live in - knowing that someone’s stereo from miles away can be a problem. They’re that bassy, and bass travels that well. And like I said, people would cruise up and down our street with those fucking things that are so goddamn common now. Another way I can tell if it’s a freeloader that just bassed in or out is by the motion sensor security light in the carport. Cuz of the soundproofing material that’s in the bedroom windows, I can’t tell if it’s on or not, but from the window in the back room, I can as long as the back room is not too lit up. In the daytime, I’d have to go to the side of the house to see if it was on.

In answer to why dad’s not getting his legs taken care of now since he’s in pain, it’s cuz they’re busy at the store, and it’s not a life or death situation.

I’ve been appreciative of the cut-down in calls from Andy, but since it’s been several days, and since I’d like to hear all about his trip to L.A. with Michelle to see Xena, I left him a message.

As for my weight, once again, you really can’t fight fate and win. Yes, I must be compensated. My losing weight is 100% hopeless. I’m just not meant to be thin again and nothing I do can change that. These metabolism pills I’ve got are a bunch of bull. They’re probably just sugar or some substance like that that fills the capsules. And I’m just too much of a wimp to stop eating altogether. So I’ll be fat, but at least I’ll be a fat person who can breathe. I’ll use the money I save on cigarettes to buy new clothes as I keep getting bigger, and I will keep getting bigger. I just know it like I know I’m sterile and meant to be forever childless. You might say that’s got some good in it, too, after all the shit I go through trying to handle the not smoking, as well as for other reasons.

Tom’s still doing and is always gonna do what he does best - deny I have a plumbing problem, so he doesn’t have to deal with it. It gets more and more obvious each year that he doesn’t want a kid, or to go to a fertility doctor, so his way of dealing with it - there’s not a problem. I understand his ways, though, cuz I was once that way myself. If something was going on that I didn’t like or didn’t want to deal with, I too would deny it or I’d play it down.

Tom’s been passing a few tests I’ve set up and again, I know when he’ll do what I say he’ll do, and when he’ll do the direct opposite of what I said he’ll do. Due to my saying things that implied I didn’t want to screw when I was mid-cycle, he made sure we did. And due to my saying he preferred sex the most right before and after my period, he made sure he didn’t touch me all weekend, which is close enough. It’s due on the 25th. I don’t know if my getting so fat has a play in it, although he does tell me I’m beautiful all the time, but part of it is cuz he doesn’t balance things well. He either has to work or screw, but he can’t mix business with pleasure. I see it to my benefit as time goes on, though. If it were new, or if one of us was gonna die soon, or if we had a shot at a kid, then I’d still be bitching about the part-time sex we have, but I know that he likes it this way deep down, too. He could’ve asked for it any day, but he didn’t, so that tells me that he must think full-time is too much too, and I also understand it’s not in his nature to have a high appetite and that he’s in his 40s.

Anyway, after all the questioning I’ve done in the past about sex and Tom, now I question sex and myself. Just what has happened to my appetite? I know we’re not a new couple, we’re infertile, etc., but I thought women got hornier into their 30s. It seems that for the last month, month and a half, my appetite’s been much lower. This isn’t a complaint, though, but merely an observation. I kind of like it this way, cuz he couldn’t keep up with me when I’d want it nearly every day and it seems that the lower my sex drive is, the lower my desire for a kid is, too.

I scanned all my favorite drawings (about 40) into the computer. Tom created a new directory for me to put them in there. It’s similar to my directories for Gloria and Norah pictures and for my journals.

I love this thing called Media Manager, which lets me view my drawings, pictures, etc., on little icons.