God, I’m getting tired of these phone games with Paula! I’m gonna ignore her for a while, cuz I’m tired of the phone tag, and right now, I really don’t have anything to say to this air-head. Meanwhile, her video’s gone out today. She either gets it or she doesn’t. You know, I might not get the mail I sent to the wrong PO Box returned to me after all. It may go to that box, but whoever uses that box will be the one to get it. As long as you send something to an address that exists, it doesn’t matter what name you use.

I thought of something funny, but I’d never do it, cuz if I got caught, and with my luck I would, it’s a major felony. It’s just something funny to think about. I could get a change of address card and send Tammy’s mail to Larry, and another change of address card to send Larry’s to Tammy. Lastly, a card to send Dureen and Art’s to one of the houses we used to have in Longmeadow. Or perhaps the old cottage at the beach. Maybe even Judy and Al’s house in Springfield.

I’ve taken to writing my dream notes in an unusual place. The next person to buy these books will be like - what’s this? I’m writing the notes at the beginning or end of the book where you usually have a blank page or so, or a page with just a few words on it.

Oh, those fucking assholes that complain people hate them and then wonder why! Real winners, I’ll tell ya. Yes, they really are oh so mature and great for society. Great for each other, too. If it had been me to answer the door yesterday, there’d have been trouble. Especially if it were before I fully understood what was going on. I was in the bedroom with the fan on when I came out to pee and saw Tom up. The Mexican guys woke him up by coming to the door and asking where the car was. 

Gee, where the fuck does he think it is, stupid fuck of an idiot! 

I asked Tom if the stupid shit asked for the $50 back and he said no. Meanwhile, the little fuck’s truck was broken down on the corner. See, I thought the little fuck was trying to imply that the car was gone before he could get it, and that he was gonna ring the doorbell again and demand his $50 back after Tom told him he gave him the title and the keys, so it’s not his problem. That idiot is very very lucky that that wasn’t the case and that it didn’t ring this bell, cuz I’d have wanted to pummel the shit out of it. This shit totally reminds me of the Puerto Ricans and their scams on Oswego St. I was fuming! Anyway, what we think happened is that the shithead was double-crossed by its so-called pal. Tom said there were 3 of them that came to look at the car the first time. So obviously, one of them decided to beat the others to it. Yeah, I don’t doubt it. I mean, they even shit on their own selves, not just whites. 

As I said, it brought me right back to Oswego St. How could I have been so damn naïve?! So fucking stupid?! I know it’s senseless to get all pissed off at something that happened over a decade ago and that cannot be undone, but still, it’s hard to help it at times. The first thing I should have done was to take better care of my place so that those fucking Puerto Ricans Nellie and José couldn’t have ripped me off. But since I was too stupid to keep them away from my apartment and me away from them, I should’ve kicked ass. That surely wouldn’t set them straight and scared them off of the idea of fucking with my checks or boxes. I also never should’ve cashed those stolen checks she had, but I had absolutely no idea that if you cashed bad checks you had to pay for them. And I didn’t know they were stolen, but I should’ve. I shouldn’t put two and two together.

I try to remind myself there are good and bad in all kinds, but it’s so very hard at times. When that black bitch and her associates got on my case, I tried remembering Steve, and when Mexican scammers get me riled up, I remember Gloria.

There are sooooooo many things I’d do totally differently if I had to do them again. Well, you really do live and learn!

Another thing I can’t help is my daily bitter resentment towards God and his control. I try to ask myself how I can hate someone who’s given me Tom and so many other great things. Besides, I don’t even want a baby anymore. But that should’ve been my choice. Not his. Not unless I was some murderer or something of that violent nature. I’m glad things worked out as they did, but why did I have to go through all the suffering I went through? To me, God’s taking away a woman’s right to have a child if she wants to is the ultimate punishment you can inflict upon a woman. It’s cruel, it’s vicious, it’s heartless, and the worst thing you can do to a woman. It’s even worse for him to do that than it is for him to allow a woman to be raped. It may be traumatic to be raped and it may do some serious, lasting emotional damage, but the rape is only the rape while the actual act lasts. Demanding a woman be childless is forever. All her life she has to deal with that and with having her choice taken away from her, but a rape victim only has their choice taken away from them while they’re being raped.

Still no one next door. God, I can’t believe it! It’s so weird. Maybe they are planning to sell it, but I don’t know. The grass is getting to where it needs mowing. Also, Tom says that by law, the city has to repaint the carport area where the paint is peeling. With a city-owned house, the city can do what they want.

Later...

Just got a private call with no message. Was it a wrong number, a business, or perhaps Michelle, ordered by Andy to call me while he was gone, just so he could know he got my attention while he was gone, too?

Why do I work so hard for so little? All these crunches just to have such a paunch! The upper belly’s fairly flat. It’s the area between the belly button and the bikini line that’s the problem. And this is no subtle little swell, either. It’s a very defined bulge. I really don’t think I can flatten it any more than I already have, but Tom thinks I can in time.

Later...

I love my new exercise mat! It makes a world of difference to my back and joints. It really cushions the back, knees, and hips. It’s a piece of foam 60” long and 22” wide with a burgundy cloth cover. You can unzip the cloth and take it off to wash it. Just like when I exercise, it keeps the woolly carpet from bothering my sensitive skin. It also keeps me from making odd-looking impressions in the carpet.

I left Andy a message for when he returns, saying there have been some setbacks, so we won’t be moving this summer. In fact, I exaggerated it and said we’d be here another 6-12 months (we better not be!) so all the more he’ll be surprised when we leave.

I also told Andy that it’d be nice to hear about him when he returns. Not about God. He can talk about God all he wants, just some other time. First, let’s hear about his vacation and about what he did. Save God for another time. I know I’m totally wasting my time, once again. Even though I asked nicely, and I never said that he couldn’t talk about God ever again. It’s just that it gets so old and it’s so sad to see him so delusional. How can he kid himself about God like he does? It’s like, I may as well believe that this monitor is real and is looking out for me and is oh so loving and all that. Or one of my dolls, or a pair of scissors! We all can’t help what we believe, but God’s just a fictional character in a fairytale, as far as I’m concerned. At least, the kind he believes in.

I don’t have any more puzzles to do, so I guess I’ll go read some more of Haunted. Or maybe I’ll print out some stuff for this month.