The curiosity got to me and I asked him why he still didn’t cum if he agreed to be a naturalist along with me and after I said it’d be OK, but again he insists it’s not his choice; it either happens or it doesn’t. Also, we are being naturalists by just letting whatever happens to happen. True. I guess I didn’t think of it that way, and I guess we’re still being naturalists even if I’m still right about the reason he doesn’t cum being due to a subconscious fear. Anyway, he has a point, nonetheless, and he also swears he wouldn’t be embarrassed going to a doctor about it and says that maybe someday he will. As long as he’s honest - great. I’d still like to experiment with stimulants after we’ve moved and are settled and see where that naturally takes us. I had always been afraid that if I someday decided yes, I want to go through with the in vitro for sure, he’d either renege on our deal or not cooperate and do his part one way or another, but he gave his word and he agreed that if I ever found myself wanting a kid again (not that I think God would allow it) that he’d do his part, go to a doctor first about the cumming, see if I could conceive naturally by his cumming regularly, even though I know I wouldn’t, then go for in-vitro. That way they could see that we tried to help ourselves first in virtually every way possible, even if that means counting days, taking temps, and doing things we don’t necessarily want to do. It will depend on how much we feel a kid is worth it, and I don’t know what the future holds as far as what we’ll want to do and find worth it, but right now, I’d rather just concentrate on moving and getting settled in in the new house before I make any decisions about that. I may be around 40 years old, give or take a few years before I did anything about having a kid if that’s what I decided to do. I still don’t see God allowing that, and I don’t know if that’d be something I’d want or could handle. As for him, according to what he’s said, he’s happy if I’m happy. In other words, I think he’ll be fine if I decide to go for the in vitro at some point and fine if I don’t. Just as long as we both stick to our agreements and let the other know if we want to make a change and why we want to make the change. I feel the same way too, what with wanting him to be happy. If the guy wanted my tubes tied I’d be having them tied ASAP, etc. I’d do anything I could that was within my means, and if it wasn’t within my means, I’d try like hell to get it within my means. The only thing I do know for sure is that I haven’t conceived naturally after the 6 years we’ve been together and I never will at this rate as long as he rarely gets off. The interesting thing to see will be whether or not we choose to do something about it. My guess is that he’ll always be the way he is for many possible reasons. 1. It seems to be so much a part of him just like computers are. 2. The doctors may not be able to help him if he wanted to make a change like that. 3. He might think he’s not embarrassed, then find that he is and he may shy away in the end. 4. He may subconsciously be against change of any kind for whatever reason and resist a doctor’s suggestions.

Hopefully, we’ll never be faced with a conflict of interest. We both agree we’ll support each other, but we could end up in trouble if one wants to do something while the other wants to do something else. If I decide I want a kid and say to him, “You agreed to support me so you should be doing whatever you can to get off more,” he could easily counter that by saying, “But you said you’d accept me as I am and I can’t/don’t want to change.” Well, hopefully we can find a way to compromise if we ever cross this kind of bridge and work things out so neither of us feels controlled, not accepted, cheated, betrayed, or like we’re losing out on things in life.

He’s always sworn my not mentioning his cumming would be his cure-all, and even though he’s said that about other’s things we’ve tried, let’s see. The only reason I didn’t experiment with this suggestion was cuz of my doubt, but let’s see. If you’re an inquisitive person such as I am, experimenting is fun. So, my lips about the subject will be sealed for the rest of the century.

Maybe next door does leave the front light on when someone who lives there is coming/going, cuz it was on late last night while the pickup made a few trips in and out. Again the pickup’s been gone all day.

Tom said they followed him in the pickup to Circle K the other day. Not intentionally, of course, but the fat bitch and some fat male were pulling in next to him as he was leaving.

On a map that came in the mail from a title agency, I saw that I was wrong when I said there were 6 houses on this block. There are actually 5. Us, the freeloaders, the collies, and two others.

He bought a map that was expensive at $28, but the only map, nonetheless, with the street we’re gonna be living on. That way, since he’s not as familiar with the area, he can find alternatives to getting home if he gets caught in a storm. He could get lost without it since those dirt roads tend to get washed out during storms.

As usual, Steven didn’t call back when he said he was going to so we can find out how to get a hold of the contractor, which is our next step. That and getting the permit for the well, storage crates, and an apartment. However, we can’t really do anything with the contractor till we own the land and that doesn’t close till October 7th, ten days after the house closes.

He did ease my nerves tremendously, though. I think it was Labor Day when this happened, but we got a call from a realtor wanting to show the house, and we were like - what?! Still, my vibes weren’t saying the H's backed out and no one said they did, which they would’ve by now you’d think, and the freeloaders were still being quiet. I guess it was a misunderstanding of some kind, but as Steven said, it’s a done deal. Our house is sold! That brought tears of relief to my eyes.

I packed Ciara in the box she came in. First I took off her dress since I figured it’d be hard to repack in the box without getting it all rumpled. I hung it on a hanger (I held the thing up to me and it was below my knees) and covered it with a clothing cover Ma made me one Christmas.

Tom wants to go back to the arcade where the award ceremonies were to play some more games. He described some of them to me but says they’re kind of expensive. Some games are $3.

Once again, my schedule’s been thrown off, but this time there’s no one to blame but myself. I couldn’t fall asleep till 1:00 last night and I just couldn’t pull myself out of bed at 8:00, so I slept in till 10:30. Tom said I ought to give myself a day off. Well, it has been a month since I’ve slept right through and woken up naturally without alarms, so maybe I will.

Later...

The pickup’s back. This is the same time it came back yesterday, too.

I decided to play Andy’s game along with him. We’ve been getting private calls where there’s no message left, and I still feel it’s Andy. So, I blocked my number and called him right after getting the last two calls I got this morning and just now, and he was home. I decided to trust my gut instinct that says it’s him and give him a few calls, too. I’ve called three times today so far. The same amount of times he called me. I just hung up the first time, and let the radio I’m listening to record on his machine the second and third time.

I know it’s him. Why is he doing this? Oh, just cuz he’s bored. He probably figures it’s a good thing to do before he gets dumped too, to get attention without me hearing his voice and knowing it’s him for sure.

Later...

Jesus! The welfare bums not only give us beer cans and cigarette butts, but now they’re giving us their kid’s clothes, too. I found a pair of sweatpants and a shirt beside our hedges in back. They had to have come from next door given the position they were in. They can’t be the black bitch’s cuz I would’ve noticed them back when I’d spy over the wall beside the hedges to see when the blacks were moving in. The pants were royal blue. The tag said ‘2 Toddler’. I guess they were Batman pants, cuz their trademark tag was inside the pants, too. The navy shirt was long-sleeved with green and maroon rings around each arm. There were no tags on it. Both were stained. The pants looked like they had white paint on the seat of them as well as on the front and back of one knee. The shirt was in better condition but had light streaks throughout it. Looks like some idiot tried to bleach the thing. So, did Deb or some other adult throw it over the wall deciding they were too fucked up? Or did the kids do it? My guess is that Deb was too lazy to throw them away so she gave them to us, but guess what? They’re going back! Not both the pants and the shirt, just the shirt. I can’t mail them both without going over 16 oz. Packages over 16 oz. aren’t supposed to be thrown in a mailbox. The postal workers fear it could contain bombs. Nonetheless, I’m sure crazy Deb will be quite surprised to get the shirt back. I’m sure she won’t be expecting it!