Well, it’s that time again, folks. The weekend. Will our little freeloaders be good? Is a certain little punk with a gray car back yet? Time will tell.

Once again, if I were smart, I’d keep my mouth shut about any testing when I went to the doctor. It won’t get me anywhere. It’ll just cause more trouble and Tom won’t cooperate and do his part. I know he won’t. I know he’s full of shit about wanting a kid, too, or else knowing I was sterile, he’d have done something about it a long time ago. He’d want us to go to a doctor, he’d want me to get tested to see what could be done, he’d want to get tested himself, he’d want to mention how he doesn’t cum much. But he doesn’t do any of these things. Why? Cuz he doesn’t really want to deal with testing and personal issues, and he doesn’t want a kid. Well, I guess that makes two of us cuz I don’t see how I’ll have the guts to bring it up. It’d just be asking for trouble from God and from Tom and they’d manipulate me out of getting the answers I seek. Tom suggested that instead of lying and saying we use rubbers, when they ask if I take birth control, to just say it’s OK whether or not I get pregnant and say no to testing for now. Yeah, I know Tom likes to put off and put off. Especially when it comes to the things he doesn’t really want or want to deal with, but that would be lying too. No, it’s not OK if I get pregnant. I no longer want a child. People change. People move on. The point is the sex and kid issue has never gotten me anywhere but frustrated and even downright pissed. The only way to deal with it is to turn my cheek against it.

Neither of us could’ve complied with what they’d have requested of us to do as far as the tests go. He’d be ordered to squirt in a cup for them. He wouldn’t. They’d want me to take my temperature and to have sex several days in a row at certain times. Now what good would that have done me with a husband who’s too busy and too tired for sex and who wouldn’t have cum if we could get together more often and at scheduled times? He says sex has to be spontaneous for him. It can’t be made into a job or chore for him. Well, spontaneous sex never set his Willie straight before, so scheduled sex sure wouldn’t do it.

My condition also is not fixable. So why should I fight to get answers to problems I couldn’t solve and wouldn’t want to solve anyway? I’m not that curious about it.

Same for my weight. That was really sweet of Tom to offer me a shot at going through the Jenny Craig program, but for what? So I can be labeled a control freak? So I can keep on not accepting myself and liking myself as I am? So I can go against God, and win or lose, be made to pay for it. He’d just go and do something else to me if I ever got thin again. So why eat bland food with no fats or sugars for the rest of my life?

I need to like and accept myself as I am and live for the things that are realistic. You can live putting your energy into things that can’t be, or you can live for reality and do things that are meant to be and that are possible. Things we can handle and that are within our control.

When I was last talking with Andy, who’s no doubt waiting for the weekend to fully set in before calling me to let me know which of the notes were the funniest, I told him it’d be nice if he’d visit me sober when he’s more alert and receptive. What a stupid thing to do. Andy’s an opposite-doer. He rebels and now he’s gonna really make it a point to come over baked out of his mind. He’ll be a giggling ditz who won’t get or remember one thing I say.

Got an anniversary card from my folks yesterday with $50 bucks of cash enclosed.

Tom, who ordered me 3 CDs so far for our wedding, brought up an interesting possibility. What if Michelle is Andy’s true soul mate and neither of them knows it? Maybe they’re destined for each other, not him for a guy and her for a gal. Tom says he’s heard of couples where a gay guy has a female roommate (maybe she’s gay too and maybe not) and after 10-15 years of neither of them finding anyone, they end up married. Or at least they end up together in some shape or form. I wonder if that’ll happen with Andy and Michelle, but who knows if they’ll ever be roommates again?

It’s just 5:00 in the morning now and here goes Tweety! Wonder if the trailer people who are here enjoy listening to him?

Later…

Well, another one of those goofy sex sessions, but I wouldn’t give in as he might’ve hoped and expected. I mean, give in by getting all mad or frustrated. I expect him to shrivel up here and there. It was another one of those cases where he was rock hard, then when he went in there, he went soft. He tried to say he didn’t even get in there, but he did. He was just in there for a few seconds, though, before deflating. I then tried to pump him up again, but couldn’t get him in the mood and hard enough to reenter, so I suggested he just go down on me, and we’ll try to screw again later (although I’m sure he’ll forget it and I hope so too!) As usual, he was never happier to oblige, and he even cracked some jokes along the way down there. He tried to joke and say that I should tell him if I’m not in the mood to screw. Uh-huh.

I better hope and pray that I’m wrong about that freeloader returning yesterday or today, cuz if it’s there tomorrow afternoon, it’s gonna make a total ass of itself for me over the fucking basketball finals. There’s a big game Tuesday night, too, Tom says. The freeloaders better hope and pray that for their sakes, they don’t act up, cuz if they act up, so do I.

Later…

Got a letter from Lisa.