No out-of-towners this weekend, but I guess little miss bitch had company while I slept. Tom said there were no music or ball games, though. A white car came and parked just inside the carport and then he said he heard a bunch of little kids, and that’s all he heard. Right now there are no lights on over there, and it’s early on a Saturday night, so that means that the subhuman black piece of shit meat is out somewhere. Unless she has to get up early, which I highly doubt. So, I’m sure I’ll hear her come door-slamming in any time now.

Can this bitch ever take one weekend off? Just one weekend? I mean, I can’t imagine not wanting a weekend to myself periodically with no visitors and no one picking me up. Guess she’s a clingy desperado who always needs to be around people (sort of like Evie). What is Evie’s fascination with me anyway? Why does she always want to do something with me or come and get me, etc.? I know she doesn’t feel sorry for me and my sterility like I originally thought, because she knows I don’t want kids, and from what she tells me, I think she envies me and my sterility.

Later…

Went for another dusk swim and it was blessedly peaceful.

Did some laundry earlier and soon I’ll tackle the dishes. Can’t wait till we have a dishwasher when we move, too.

Tom worked on the car, as usual, and there’ll be many more days of that to come, as is destined for the next handful of years or so.

I don’t know if Tweety’s dying or what, but he didn’t look too good, so I brought him inside. He seems weak and he’s sitting on the floor of his cage. Something he just doesn’t ordinarily do. Well, I can’t say it’d be any big loss to me if he did die. It’d just be one less mouth to have to feed and water since I’m not really a fan of birds. Neither is Tom. We both favor Measles over Tweety and if I could take Measles with us when we move, I would.

I was surprised to wake up at 115 pounds. Last night I had a 114-pound vibe, which is rather odd. We’ll see what happens, but as long as I don’t go back into the 120s again. One little change in my diet can cause me to swing out to 121 pounds like I just did the other day. I have a neat new diet plan that I think will be healthy for me and that’ll make sure I never go back into the 120s, as long as I stick to it.

Later…

The bitch just came in. I only heard one door slam. Couldn’t make out the car, though.

Anyway, I originally wanted to do the Slim-Fast diet plan and have a shake for breakfast and lunch, then a regular dinner, but no, God had to bless me with a bum stomach. I say that sarcastically, of course. So, instead of two TV dinners a day with graham crackers and popcorn mixed in, I’m gonna keep the two TV dinners a day but replace the crackers and popcorn with salad. Of course, I’ll do my walking, too. I’ll have a bowl of popcorn once a week. I’m not gonna deprive myself forever. It’s just that I can’t make any major changes/additions without it costing me a trip to the 120s. Hell, if I just kept on eating as I always have for years since quitting smoking, I’d be pushing 200 pounds by now!

As far as toning - I don’t know. Most of those target exercises never did me any good, and as Tom said, it takes a long time to see a significant difference. He said it may take me 9 months to a year and him about 3 years. He also pointed out how some people exercise for 5-10 years before they feel they’re where they want to be and at their peak fitness. It really is slavery. If it were something that could be accomplished in a month, no one would look like I do, or worse. Except for maybe most guys. Because most of them don’t care how they look, what they weigh, or how fit they are. Some women don’t, either, but it’s mostly guys who are less into their health/appearance. As for the craters, oh my God, I now have them from head to toe! That’s mainly an age thing. I can lessen them, but I’ll never get rid of them. I wonder about these hips, though. Never have I had hips like this before. I always had such narrow hips, but not now. Fortunately, though, the hip exercises were the most effective, so maybe I’ll do those more often.

Later…

Damn, this bitch crashes early. There are no lights on in the kitchen or living room, so unless the bitch is curled up in bed with her hand between her legs, sloshing around in the tub with a rubber ducky, it ain’t awake.

It’s in my nature to be a philosopher, as you know, and to analyze, guess, and wonder about all kinds of things - so - what would my life be like now if I were still back east? What a really fucking scary and depressing thought!!! If they had cut me off from SS and SSI without my having someone like Tom in my life, I’d have died for sure. I’d never have made it. Even if I could keep a schedule and dance till I got too old to dance, what would I have done afterward?

Tom is definitely my biggest blessing. Regardless of how many things he’s said and done that I disapprove of, I sure feel I have more security with him than I did with SS and SSI checks and my parents’ help.

If there is any subject that Tom’s words have never matched his actions (for more than the most part), it’s sex. No, this isn’t a complaint nowadays. Just observations. As I’ve said, we have sex Fridays and Mondays. Last night I got into bed to screw, when he said, “Let me use the bathroom for a minute first.” I’m thinking, oh boy. He’s gonna beat it off in the bathroom. I’d bet these journals on the fact that he did, too. After that minute, which was really 15-20 minutes, he came out, got into bed, and I said something like, “Gee! I was beginning to think some young, skinny chic popped into the bathroom and that you got it on with her.” Then he said I was impatient, he was reading a magazine, then he had to brush his teeth. I can see brushing his teeth, but he went and read a magazine while he knew his wife was waiting for him in bed? How romantic. Yeah, he really desires me. So much so that although it was the beginning of his day, he slept a long time, he had plenty of time to digest, the place was cool, he really squirt like hell! Yeah, right. Well, he’s not the only one. I tried using the vibrator, but I couldn’t get off. I told him I had a “missed” orgasm, where you have a very light orgasm, but it was close enough in a way. I did get more aroused than I have in quite a while.

Thank God, I mean thank fucking God, that he’s not your typical male. What with the way I’ve become so non-horny, I’d be driven crazy if he were all over me all the time, and if he were wetting the bed constantly. Speaking of that - he knows I’m dead serious about not wanting a kid anymore. At least I think he knows. Therefore, he’ll probably go back to not cumming at all.

Still have mixed emotions about going to get tested. Since I’ve stopped wanting a kid, it sort of put a damper on my curiosity about why I’m sterile. I mean, is it really necessary that I see if I can find out why? Who cares if it’s the eggs, or the uterus, or something else when I not only don’t want a child, but I know why God sterilized me? It’s simple - he sterilized me because he knew I couldn’t handle a child. So, is knowing all this really worth putting myself through the hassle?

Tweety’s still hunkered on the floor of his cage, but he did get up to take a drink. My guess is that he’s dying, but we’ll see.