I got to thinking about something…I wonder if the teddy bear I threw over their wall had anything to do with the 10-minute bass session I received the following day? (I wonder about the weight loss too, being connected) Did these freeloaders figure it was me who delivered the teddy bear and therefore, knowing it was from me, did that fuel them into this bass fit? Even though it wasn’t glass shattering upon concrete, I suppose the thought of knowing the bear was from me, would trigger a reaction. If this is the case, I’m amazed these otherwise stupid people had brains enough to figure it out.

After I wrote the truth about Saturday’s attack on me, I got into my bullshit, of course, which I always make sure I mix in for the freeloaders. I described a young couple that agreed to buy our house from us. A couple just as loud as they are with lots of parties and even a band that’s to practice here. That way the freeloaders can be looking for these people that don’t really exist. In time, though, even stupid fucks like they are will figure out who the hell’s really living here, though.

I wish to hell I had those childish notes they left in our mailbox slot a year ago. I’d copy them with the scanner for them. I wrote my own copy and followed the same handwriting and wording to the best of my memory, and then I scanned that. I also scanned my letter from Unsolved Mysteries, which doesn’t mention my name. It only says: Dear Viewer. Then on top of it, I scanned part of a certificate of authenticity for one of my dolls. Only the top part that says: certificate of authenticity. At the very bottom of this I typed: Copy of JRN’s letter to Unsolved Mysteries to try to find her.

The freeloader’s gonna be like, what the fuck?! It’s hard to duplicate the logo of Unsolved Mysteries, and I know they’d be too stupid to figure out what I did. Especially since poor old losers like this wouldn’t be used to exposure to high-tech, sophisticated shit.

Evie forwarded us a stupid message about someone who died drinking a can of soda because they didn’t wipe the top clean first, which was encrusted with dried rat urine that was obviously lethal. Ha, ha, ha! As an expert on rodents, I told her that rodent urine is not lethal.

There are two closets in the master bedroom, in case I never said so before. One of them leads to the attic. Tom’s had his ladder in there to check for leaks. By the way, it rained today. Can you believe it rained on a Sunday? That may’ve been why I got to sleep today too, since the weather may’ve been too damp for certain ball-playing, bass-thumping assholes. It also didn’t leak. I couldn’t fucking believe that! Anyway, I got tired of reaching over and through the ladder for shit, so I vacated that closet altogether. All that’s in there are a few things we never use. Tom’s gonna use the sander on this door, which doesn’t close very easily. Then he’ll use the sandblaster on the reddish stains out on the front of the house. I forgot what really caused these stains, but I call them bloodstains.

I also packed some non-breakable knickknacks in the big box Maria came in.

There are about 15 common exercises to work the basic muscle groups. Since I have such a problem with sticking to regular exercise, I decided to do 5 at the start of my day, 5 in the middle of my day, and 5 at the end of my day, but so far, this hasn’t helped me to be consistent with exercising. Perhaps nothing will!

I worry about Tom and all this overtime they’ve been throwing at him since getting a new boss. He’s the boss of his shift, but that doesn’t prevent him from having to deal with all this overtime. See? If it isn’t his mom needing constant attention like she did when she lived in her own house, it’s overtime. The extra money’s great, but I’m afraid it’s gonna kill him. He said there wasn’t anyone else available to do the work. I asked him if they could hire more help. Instead of answering me, he just shrugged. I take it that means that for whatever reason, they’re not gonna hire more help. They’re gonna stick the work on this one poor guy and run him ragged with constant 10-11 hour shifts.

Speaking of never-ending shit that has its way of taking its toll on a person, I’m so fucking sick of being tight! I wasn’t even tight this much when I smoked! When I smoked it was wheezing that was the problem for me. See? There’s always a price to pay for everything. I’m afraid to go to a doctor about it because I know that if she can help me, God will only inflict some new problem upon me. Besides, if Tom’s theory is right, I may as well just deal with it and suffer, since it doesn’t matter whether or not I suffer if we’re going to heaven after we die, only to have it a million times better than we do here.

Tom believes that although some people have worse lives than others, it doesn’t matter, cuz there’s no comparison to even the best life here and the afterlife. Well, I hope he’s right and that I don’t get sent to hell for whatever reason, be it the prank calls I’ve made, the women I’ve been with, the things my relatives/ancestors have done, etc. I wonder how Tom decided that this is a logical afterlife for us. He decided that reincarnation isn’t logical cuz of how the population fluctuates. I’ll have to ask him when he gets in, how he came to believe that we go to heaven and have it so fine and wonderful after we die.

Later...

I can’t believe I’ve been up for ten hours, yet all I’ve had to eat is a 290-calorie TV dinner and a 200-calorie bag of popcorn. I also can’t believe my weight’s down this low. I almost feel like my old self. However, as low as I’ve gotten my weight, I still have a full face, a double chin, thunder thighs, and a huge lower gut. It seems my lower gut just won’t go away. Yes, it’s gone down since being in the 120s, but it still sticks out much further than my upper gut. If my lower gut was the same size as my upper gut, my stomach would be practically flat. I wonder if I’ll go right back up to around 110 pounds since I crashed my way down to 105 with hardly eating and with water pills? In fact, I’m already back to 108. Of course, I ended up eating like a pig yesterday. Had around 2000 calories. Anyway, I think the reason I’ve eaten so little is due to all the singing and typing I’ve been doing on and off all night.

Our weather’s been screwy. As I said, it rained today and is much cooler. For a few days last week, we didn’t need the heat all day. Didn’t need it till around 4:00 in the morning and only till around 10:00. Now, we need it even in the middle of the afternoon during this cool spell.

We screwed today, which I always have mixed emotions about these days. I never want to screw with him again, yet at the same time, I want to screw once a week to keep from getting irritation. Today’s fuck wasn’t nearly as painful as the last one, but it wasn’t pain-free, either. It did subside a great deal after a few minutes. Again, he stayed on his side and didn’t go up top. It’s still not like with the vibrators, and I know that it’s just a matter of another 1-3 weeks where we won’t have sex for 2-4 weeks. That means I’ll have to start all over again and feel like a virgin, but each time I start over again, it gets harder and I lose interest and the determination to start over again and put myself through the same old pain and crap that I shouldn’t have to go through in the first place. Although I know he’ll only cum just 2-3 times a year, it’s OK if he cums during that so-called prime time that doesn’t exist for me (think of all the money we’ll save on birth control!) cuz I know I could never conceive.

That brings me to Marla and her lecturing me on how I shouldn’t give up and how I should try everything that modern technology has to offer, and that includes having Tom get tested. Then she told me more things about her and Linda. I guess the story goes like this: Linda, who spent about 15 years trying to get pregnant, was initially diagnosed with one clogged tube which I guess they unclogged (technically, all you need is one tube. You just cut your chances in half, though). Then, she was diagnosed as appearing to be OK, but she just couldn’t conceive. So after trying fertility drugs to no avail, Marla agreed to be a surrogate mother for Linda, but the embryo wouldn’t even stay in her and she’s never had problems conceiving. She even had three abortions before having her two boys. So, I guess Linda had to try over and over again till an implant would stay in her. They were suspecting that Linda’s body reacted to the embryo as if it were an unnatural invader. She had to have daily injections to keep her body from rejecting the fetus.

I wonder if my body treats embryos as invaders. That would be just the thing God would do to me too. There’s still a chance that there could be nothing wrong with either of us, or that there’s something wrong with him, but I think the chances are higher of there being something wrong with me due to how I didn’t get pregnant in the past when I was too stupid to use birth control, on top of my gut instinct. I think it’s more likely that there’s something wrong with my hormones, my body mucus, or something like that.

Marla asked me how bad do I want a kid? Obviously not that bad, but even if I did, I am not allowed to ever have a child. Not under any circumstances. Not even modern technology could help me. I just know it. And even if it could, God would only knock that fetus right out of me. I know Marla means well, but still, she just doesn’t get it and she doesn’t get psychics. I know some people would see me as a negative quitter, but I just know some things about my destiny and my body.

It’s really sweet of Tom to tell me that he’ll support whatever I want to do and I believe him, but again, something’s nagging at my gut instinct and it’s telling me that Tom would just rather not have to deal with me trying to conceive. It seems to be a touchy subject for him and I think more than anything, God would use Tom to stop me from conceiving if I tried to, by making sure he couldn’t give them a sperm sample. Maybe even Tom himself would make sure of it, cuz I still say that despite the times that he did cum during the right time, he’d rather not be a father. I just sense this deep down. The doctor may also refuse to just go ahead and do the invitro without fixing our so-called sex problem first. But you can’t help people who don’t want to be helped, aren’t meant to be helped, or both. Lastly, all this would take years. If we had gone to that consultation last February 15th, we’d still be nowhere near done. To go from the first part of the testing/consultation to either getting pregnant or not getting pregnant, takes years. Another way God could prevent me from conceiving (there are only a million ways for God to stop me and I don’t know which way he will) is by making sure we didn’t have enough money. Linda said it cost her 8 G’s per in vitro and it took so many times before it worked. Tom does know money and he insists there’ll always be the money for it, but what if that’s what it’d cost us, and what if it took three shots for me to conceive? We’d end up paying $24,000 just for me to have a miscarriage.

To say God works in mysterious ways is an understatement. Why is it that he’d only allow Linda kids by way of all this time, money, shit, and pain she had to go through? How can a supposedly good, loving God do this to a woman? Was it because of her sister’s abortions that the bible thumpers say God’s against? That wouldn’t make sense, though. If God was so against unborn children dying, then why did he create miscarriages? And why did he let people figure out how to perform abortions if he were so against it?

I still believe we can either struggle all our lives for stuff we’re not meant to have. Or we can go with the flow of what’s available to us and what is in our cards. At this point, although I promised myself, Tom, and Marla that I’d have a wait-and-see attitude, I’m sure I’ll follow my destiny and not waste my time trying to fight fate which no one can do. I also want to move and make dolls and I believe that God will let me make dolls cuz it’s material things. Maybe in a half-assed way, but he’ll let me, nonetheless. Still, it was nice of Tom to tell me that although it’d stall the move, I could have in vitro right now if I wanted to. Yeah, right! Like God would let me? Like Tom may even let me? Of course, it’s 50/50 in my opinion as to whether or not Tom will block me, intentionally or not, but the offer is still much appreciated.