It’s prime time now, but as of yet, all’s quiet in Freeloaderville. No sounds or cars yet.

Later...

Two white girls are over playing ball, but amazingly, I can’t hear a thing even with the fan on low. That’s because they’re not using a basketball, which is heavier. Guess who the girls are? From the renters across the street. I told Tom just last week too, that they’d make it over here to use the hoop. It doesn’t look like the collie kids, and like I said, judging by the length of time this hoop went unused by the collie kids, I really think they had a fight with the bitch. Tom said he doesn’t think the kids live across the street. He thinks they only come on weekends, maybe even just Sundays. That’d explain why I don’t hear kids there during the week. I’m glad these renters aren’t next door. They are in and out and in and out. The door slamming would be about as bad as it was when the cock lived here.

Later...

The white car came and went at 3:00. The two girls have been playing ball on and off. I could be wrong about them being associated with the renters, cuz I saw them in the collie driveway. Maybe one of them is renter-associated, cuz Tom said he saw the collie kids playing with a renter kid when they first moved in.

I can’t believe Paula didn’t leave any messages today, and I can’t believe how good Andy’s been with not calling on the weekends. Maybe my good-natured lecture on being selfish and complying with simple, reasonable requests, really did sink into him.

Paula, though, can be a real pest these days. She left two messages yesterday. Maybe she’ll get the hint that I can’t call her long-distance every day and that even if she were local, me and phones don’t go together anymore like they used to.

Tom downloaded another word processor for me to check out, but once again, I wasn’t too thrilled with it. He didn’t waste his time, though, cuz there are other things within the program besides a word processor, so he’s gonna keep it for himself.

I wonder if Veronica will be in tonight. Tom says she’s this 19-year-old who’s a lesbian but doesn’t know it yet. She’s just like most butches and males - always fighting. She got arrested for fighting recently.

They got gift certificates for working on a Saturday and they’re for Red Lobster. I’ll be looking forward to going there, but will some rude fuck of a kid throw food at us like on our anniversary?

Later...

I made the stupid mistake of screwing today. It went as planned - to break me open again he only stood on the side and I had to stop him just a few minutes into it. Yeah, well it hurt like hell and I can’t take it anymore. I just can’t go through the irritation, the conditions, the control, the predictability, and the same old shit with him year after year. Then again, doing the same thing every time we screw and doing it part-time is nothing compared to what I go through physically. I can love him forever, I can be with him forever, but he needs to take care of himself for sex. As you know, I’ve never really enjoyed sex with anyone other than in my fantasies, and have never had a happy, healthy, normal sex life. I’m just not meant to have that with anyone. Sex has been more problems, conflict, and work, than fun. Today I had decided to finger myself during the week to help be able to stand the sex every 1-4 weeks, but after thinking about it, I decided I didn’t want to live like that. That’d take all the enjoyment out of it, which time alone has already helped to do enough of, and turn it into a total chore. If it’s gonna be nothing but a painful job - forget it. So I told Tom that I’ve reached my fill and that if he’s right about us having more time after his ma dies, and if God doesn’t replace that time with some other shit, then maybe I’ll reconsider.

God, why won’t you take our daughter off our hands?! Enough is enough! Take her to your kingdom! Take her to be with Dad! We need to live our lives and we need to move on!

March being just a few hours away, has brought good feelings. I mean, I still vibe us moving in June, but logically speaking, I just don’t see how we can sell the house and be out of here within 30 days of putting up a for-sale sign. Tom said that in mid-March, he’d be able to say more surely whether or not we could move in June. If his mother would hurry up and die we could, but no, God’s just so determined to have her hold our lives back! What? Is she compensation for us getting out of having to have a kid hold us back?

Tom said that when he goes to do her taxes, he’ll get a better idea of what’s in her accounts, and try to coax her into giving us each $10,000 like Mary was trying to coax the selfish little user to do.

Speaking of compensation, it’d be nice if Giselle came early to make up for Maria’s arriving late, but I won’t hold my breath.

I had a vibe that some shit would go down 2-5 years after we moved. Good or bad, I’m not sure. It’s a sudden, major change, that could cause us to feel anxious and pressured, but all I can think of is a home business of some kind. However, the vibe’s faded a bit, so I guess that’s good. As long as it’s not an accident or an illness. It’s just that sudden changes are usually the ones that aren’t good. Good changes usually take time.

The white car returned at 6:30. This is the car with the trunk rack and with the twin boys. I figured there’d be a ball game, but nope. I saw one of the boys playing with a tiny football, but after unloading the trunk and slamming doors, this car pulled out and the bitch was in for the night. Did the bitch cut her hair to her shoulders? Or was that the owner of this car? Whoever this plain blob of brown was, was about the same size as the bitch, so maybe it was her sister. It wore glasses too.

Tom said he noticed something. That I was less tight due to not needing much heat lately which is letting the humidity level rise a bit. He said he thinks that both extremes bother me; if it’s too humid or too dry. Could very well be the case.

I’ve been sleeping really weirdly these past few days. I slept so long a couple of nights ago that I ended up being up 20 hours which was till 4 PM yesterday. Then I woke up 4 hours later at 9 PM. I took a Benadryl and ended up sleeping till 9 AM! That means I could very well be up till 6:00 this morning. If that happens, getting up at 10:30 won’t kill me, since I’m very caught up in my sleep. It should only take me about 40 minutes for her to clean me and pull the routine cavity scam on me along with the doctor, then about 10 with Melanie, then about 2 to make the appointments for my next visit with Melanie and for my filling. Nonetheless, I’m gonna take a Benadryl at midnight. Maybe it’ll relax me enough to get 6 hours of sleep instead of 4. I think I’d feel better with that.

I started a book called There He Keeps Them Very Well. It’s good so far, but there were a couple of other books I tried out that I didn’t like. I’m still doing well this time. Only 3 books I couldn’t get into, rather than 6.

A few nights ago I checked out a one-hour documentary on a state funny farm, and what a crock! Even if I hadn’t been in a state nuthouse myself, I could see that this was total BS with nothing more than actors acting out a script. First of all, they don’t have restaurants in state nut wards. They also don’t go outside at night and dance to music on the radio. Also, every person there referred to what they did as “the crime” and they all sounded too articulate to be crazy. Also, they were all just too damn remorseful for what they did.

A real funny farm consists of people 8 months pregnant who deny they’re even pregnant. Of people openly masturbating. Of people who can’t talk well, can’t think well, and don’t even know what year it is. I should know. I’ve been in a state funny farm, and this is exactly what I saw there.