Now here’s something I never do - fall asleep for 7 hours after only being up for 8 hours. I guess Tom’s theory for it must be right. I wasn’t fully over my cold like I had thought and had been doing a lot. Yeah, I was doing a lot, and that included a rigorous half-hour workout.

Later...

I slept again from 3 AM - 8 AM. Now I’m frying up some chicken and then I’ll work out.

The freeloader wasn’t a problem yesterday that I know of, so maybe, just maybe, they do hear me when I bang late at night and are like OK, OK. We want our peace and sleep so we’ll shut up for a while. I don’t know. We’ll just have to see what happens, but it’s a rather depressing thought to know I’m stuck with them a few feet away from me for two more years. Like a fly buzzing around my head that I just can’t get rid of. That’ll total 4 years of having the stress of these sick fucks on me, except for that time he took off for about half a year and only visited weekly or biweekly. I should’ve known, too, that he’d be back. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, and that’s that I won’t be using headphones all the time anymore, whether they can hear it or not. One thing I learned about Arizona is - don’t give a fuck about your neighbors, cuz they won’t give a fuck about you.

Later...

OK, I just ate, but am gonna wait a little bit before working out. I don’t want an upset stomach.

I just gave my 3 cats some chicken. Fortunately, though, Mama Bitch, as I now call her, doesn’t hang out there as much as the kittens. I’m feeding them again for two reasons. One is that they just won’t go away, and the other is cuz I don’t think it was just chance that sent them to me. I think God sent them to me cuz he knew I could handle it and cuz he wanted me to take care of them.

I’m going to have to make a very serious personal decision a couple of weeks from now. I’m really tired of how I keep outgrowing my clothes every few months and want to put a stop to this weight gain, even if I can’t lose weight. If another couple of weeks of having meat or poultry every day and exercising doesn’t produce results, I’m then gonna have to decide whether or not I just want to keep on living with it, enter a weight loss program, or go back to smoking. I just know that in the end, I’m gonna have to decide if I want to breathe more or be thin more. Smoking may be something I’ll have to get used to again and cause me to wheeze again and have to take inhalers regularly, and be a bit costly, but I do miss the vice; the act of smoking. And if I’m just gonna be fat and miss them, maybe I ought to just smoke and be thin. I miss being thin and the costs kind of come out the same if you add up the costs of the new clothes I have to buy from the weight gain. Or maybe it’ll stop any further weight gain. I just know that God’s not gonna let me have my cake and eat it too. It’s one or the other. Either I must be heavy, or I must wheeze away. Maybe I should smoke a few months here and there, who knows? At least now I know I can quit. As long as I have Tom’s support, the Nicorette gum for 12 weeks, and regular gum in between, I can do it. Then when the pounds add up again, I can smoke again.

Later...

I had Tom get me a pack of smokes. Once again, I feel a bit nauseous and there’s a foul taste in my mouth. I wonder how I did these things for so long and why I felt so compelled to get started and stick it out long enough to get used to these things in the first place. Guess living with my mother and psycho foster parents and funny farms was really tough, but nonetheless, it was I who put the damn things to my lips. My first relapse taught me it was better to miss them than to smoke. This one’s taught me to just take the fat. I don’t think I can get back into these things no matter how hard I try. So I just have to accept the fact that just like I can’t have everything I want in life, it’s either smoke and choke or be fat. I also feel kind of guilty and like I’m letting Tom down and throwing away all that hard work. After all, it was just beginning to get easier. I wasn’t missing my cigarettes nearly as much and when I did, it was OK. I could deal with it.

So, I’ll keep on exercising and eating at least one good meal a day as Tom and I agreed, then when I get to the 140 pounds I know I’ll get to, I’ll decide then if I just want to live with it, or if I should see a doctor and check out a weight loss program. I just don’t see what they can do for me that I can’t do for myself or that I haven’t already done. I think that if it were that easy and even possible to lose weight, your average person wouldn’t be overweight like they are. Maybe being fat isn’t the end of the world as long as I make sure I get new clothes every 3 months and be punctual about it so I don’t have to deal with the frustration of clothes that don’t fit for longer periods of time like I have been. I’ve been putting off getting new clothes and that’s not good. But like I said, perhaps being big is a small price to pay in order to be able to breathe, and new clothes, even every few months, can’t add up to the cost of cigarettes if I just get a few cheap things. I’m now a non-smoker, like it or not. Something I only dreamed of being for years, so yes, God does answer some of my dreams and you know what? It’s OK if he doesn’t answer my kid dream. I told Tom that if he said the word, I’d go to a doctor with him and I still would if it’s what he wants and if we can fit it into our lives, but as long as I have my husband and the ability to breathe and not have to live in fear of bad asthma attacks, I’ll be OK with no child. We’re going to be busy with my teeth, with moving, with family, and more. Also, if I took up smoking again, I couldn’t hide it from Andy, my folks, and Lisa forever. I could live with Andy and my dad getting on my ass about it, but it’d be much harder for me to live with Lisa knowing about it. We promised each other not to smoke and I can’t say for sure if she’s not smoking or ever will if she really isn’t, but I know how useless it is to tell a child not to smoke, while you’re sitting there puffing away. I was once that child being told that while her parents smoked. And her big sister. And her big brother.

I will also not touch a drop of alcohol again after finishing the 4 wine coolers I’ve got. There’s no reason to be drinking. I don’t need no substitutes no more. Just my gum.

I’ll ask Tom to please not mention my relapse to anyone, either. He can tell his side of the family whatever he wants, but I’m talking about Andy and the family on my side. There’s no need to get them all upset over a few smokes.

Later...

Apparently, the freeloader isn’t coming in for lunch these days and that’s just fine with me. However, it came and went at 10:30. There was no music, but I heard the kid cry. I still wonder why his hours are so weird. There is a pattern and a schedule, but there’s not. Anyway, we’ll just have to see how the fuck comes in at the end of the day.

I guess I’ll go read now and then maybe listen to some music. Mine, that is.

Later...

I managed to bind and close the previous book up, but I did do it a bit backward. I was supposed to load the paper onto the wire first, then attach it to the binder, but instead, I attached it to the binder, then loaded the paper. Oh well. It’s no biggie. I’ll just know better for the next 3 journals.

I’m gonna change colors every day in this book. I’ll use black, magenta, blue, dark cyan, red, dark green, dark red, and purple

Sounds like the freeloader’s not doing music, but is back to his door-slamming routine. Well, since they obviously are so adamant about my knowing they exist, I’ll take doors over music. At least he’s in for the night, cuz that was definitely an inside-the-carport slam.