We’re back at the Hampton, and Tom just went to bed.

I slept OK last night, got up at 8:00, then went to Casa Grande when he got in shortly afterward. I didn’t realize just how many papers there were to sign!

After getting a baked potato at Wendy’s, we decided to skip going to Palm Harbor’s factory since it was out of the way, and just come here to the hotel.

In order to get the top floor, which is something I always prefer, we had to take a smoking room. So, we’re on the 6th floor, the hotel’s only smoking floor, and man is it quiet. This is definitely the best place so far, but it is a bit early still. The closest rooms to us are right next door (I forgot some doors are next to each other here) and the two across from us. There’s no one on one side of us cuz there are vending machines there. Well, I don’t have to describe the place since we’ve been here before.

I brought bottled water to run through their coffeemaker to heat up water so I can have coffee that doesn’t taste like it’s laced with bleach.

Soon I’ll go enjoy a nice hot, relaxing bath in their nice clean modern tub which is identical to the Red Roof’s. Yeah, they have some of the same things. Same digital alarm clocks, same tubs, same lamps, same AC units. But unlike Red Roof, they’re serving cookies at 4:00, which I’ll go help myself to.

Sometime after 8:00, I’ll get him up to go to Denny’s.

Look at this! He’s not snoring at all. But if I were trying to sleep, he’d be snoring like hell! I’m hoping we can find a battery-operated sound machine by the weekend, so I won’t have to listen to his snoring while I’m trying to sleep.

From about sunset at 6:00 to about 9:00 or 10:00 is the noisiest time on our land. That’s when the dogs are barking. It still beats Phoenix!

Believe it or not, we don’t have to pay flood insurance at the new place even though there are three washes, possibly four, going through our land, yet we had to in a flat subdivision in Phoenix! And next door’s house wasn’t considered a flood zone.
I think I’ll go take my bath now.

Later...

Ate a can of fish I brought, took my bath, and now I’m just gonna relax till it’s cookie time. I have three basic things to do…listen to tunes, read, or write.

We have our doubts that the house can be delivered on the 1st cuz we didn’t sign the papers till today. The good news, though, is that the house has to be there and ready for us by December 1st.

Tom’s still being as quiet as I wish he’d be when asleep all the time.

Although I no longer want a child, it bothers me to know that if I’d been naïve all along, and didn’t know he didn’t cum (especially during the first few years of marriage when we were “trying” to get me pregnant), he’d never have discussed it. Nor would he ever bring up fertility testing if I hadn’t. Just the fact that he’d never have come out and admitted to his not cumming, if he saw I didn’t know it and didn’t question it, bothers me. I just knew in my gut that he’d lie when it came to sex and stuff like that, and that’s why I did my little test about a year ago. The one where I’d make comments about us having so-called normal sex that he wouldn’t deny.

Although I don’t appreciate the dishonesty, at least I no longer want a child or care if he cums. As long as he’s happy, which he truly has to be, or else he’d complain and see a doctor. So, at least I can rest assured that he wants to be the way he is and that he’s perfectly OK with it. He wouldn’t have put up with it this long without liking things the way they are. I just think he should’ve leveled with me a little more, and from the get-go, although he did try to tell me, in his own way, by dropping certain comments, that he’d rather not have a child. I just didn’t want to hear or accept it at the time, although my journals will tell you that I’ve known all along when you read about all his resistance and his lack of appetite.

Having a low drive may truly be a part of him, but he didn’t have to live turned off cuz of his fears if he’d only been firmer. I’d have given in for him. Well, at least we’re on the same side now, and birth control and lack of cumming, and infrequent sex no longer matter.

Trio 2 is a good CD, but not as good as the one they did 10 years ago (Linda, Dolly, & Emmylou).

What a difference in how my life was when the first Trio album was released! All alone and broke, rotting away with no life whatsoever in a project in Mass. Just thinking of it makes me cringe! All the depression, frustration, anger, helplessness, and hopelessness I felt!

Well, I’ll finish up my before-the-house writing in my big blue book.

Later...

I hate it when one person says one thing and another says another thing. So cookie time isn’t really at 4:00. It’s at 5:00.

I couldn’t get out of the room cuz the inside latch got stuck and I had to get Tom up to figure out how to get it unstuck, and the poor guy bashed his fingers in the process. At least he was able to return to bed.

Well, I guess I’ll read till 5:00. Why are they serving cooking at dinner time, though?

Later...

Those cookies were great! I thought they’d be store-bought, but they were home-baked oatmeal raisin cookies. I couldn’t get any for Tom, cuz he hates raisins. I’m not overly fond of them myself, but I’m willing to pick them out and east the few I can’t.

What’s going on now? It was quiet all day, but now I hear a ton of door slamming. Can’t people make up their minds - in or out? Well, it is prime time for that, and technically, it’d be quiet enough come bedtime to sleep without the fan, but I’d rather not.

I almost had someone let me in here so I wouldn’t wake Tom again, but I finally got in after fighting with this so-called key. Red Roof has the better key. You slip a key-like thing in, it beeps, and you’re in. This thing, a piece of plastic like a credit card, doesn’t always release the door lock.

In disguised handwriting, I’m sending Bob a “death” letter rather than just disappearing. That way he’ll tell Kim. I could care less what Bob thinks, but I’d rather Kim think I died than that I dumped her. I didn’t literally “dump” her. I just moved on without giving her a way of keeping in touch. She’s just too far away and I felt it best not to bother. What kind of friendship can we really have anyway, with us on opposite sides of the country?

Anyway, in the letter, I claim to be Tom’s sister, reporting to a list of friends we left, that we died in a car wreck.

Later...

Tom and I walked across to Denny’s a while ago. He got a burger and I got a pot roast.