At the hotel…

We arrived at the hotel and got a third-floor room like we’ve been doing lately.

The last time, I forgot to pack the sneakers Tom works in and since he didn’t want to go to work in sandals, he bought new sneakers before work that night, which was Sunday night. He was due for a new pair anyway. Now he can use his old, smelly, beat-up pair for outdoor activities.

After we checked in this evening, I ran down to wash his work pants. Luckily, Tracy wasn’t using the machines. One of her daughters saw me and said hi. Last Sunday I saw Tracy by her room down the end of the first-floor hall and ran to ask her how much longer she planned on using the dryer (Teresa told me it was she who was using it, which I had guessed). She was glad to see me and was on her way out with a friend for pizza. She offered me some popcorn and I told her we didn’t have a room with a microwave this time and needed to cut the snacks down to lose 20 pounds.

“Where, girl?” she asked.

It was kind of amusing to think about how she and Teresa think I look fine. I bet I do to them. These are gigantic women, so I’m sure I do look fine in their eyes.

Anyway, I helped her daughters Sierra and Desiree gather up the clothes that were in the dryer (they’re about 6-8 years old) and I put a bracelet on for Desiree she was having trouble getting on.

Teresa had a headache so I brought her some ibuprofen.

I took a chance and had us eat at Denny’s earlier cuz I wanted something different. Luckily, it was quiet, but I’m not gonna push my luck, that’s for sure.

Dieting without something like prune juice is a hopeless waste of time, cuz whenever I try to diet, I get stuck. The lack of food gets made up for cuz my body just hangs onto everything it gets, so there’s no use in struggling to keep food out when my body just struggles to keep it in. Kind of defeats the purpose. I’ll never lose weight and be thin again, anyhow, which has been more than obvious for 2-3 years now, so what the fuck, huh? My only worry is - how much more weight will I gain before we get in the house? I’m nearly 130 pounds now. Will I be nearly 140 when we move in? 150? Dan, you fucking cock, I could kill you! You fucking motherfucker! You really controlled, delayed, and fucked up our lives! I can’t work out on an exercise machine cuz of this cock, I can’t begin my story, sleep in my own bed, or live my own fucking life! Oh, the money, time, and hassles he’s cost us!

Tom and I made a deal. That I’d send letters to Steven and Dan giving them a piece of my mind, rather than going and beating the shit out of them when we’re in the house. He worries I’ll go overboard with how mad I am and kill the cock. Fine. I’d be happy to drop them a line.

We went to Casa Grande yesterday to get refills on my inhalers. For a couple of bucks, I got a gorgeous souvenir ruler. It has several beautiful pictures of various places in Arizona, like the Grand Canyon, Sedona, etc. It sure beats my old plain, boring wooden ruler I’d had for seemingly half my life.

I forgot to mention the comment Tom made when we screwed in the house on Christmas day. “I did all I wanted to do,” he said. So he does have control over his actions. I always knew he did, but what I can’t understand to this day is how he can stand to be the way he is. How can he stand not relieving his excitement? How could anyone? Now that’s major self-control. Also, it’s almost like he’s just dying to prove me more and more right each time we screw about how I say he’s always got a problem. It’s like he’s saying, “Yup, you’re right. I’ll always have an excuse when we screw.” I swear, his turning me off is what turns him on. Well, we’ve all got to get our satisfaction somehow, huh?

The computer, which has really helped occupy my mind and time, was fun for both of us today. We played miniature golf against each other. He won one game, but for the first time in my life, after never beating anyone at miniature golf whether it was on a computer or not, I beat him.

Brian, our favorite, came out with his son to do a little work. We were supposed to have an inspection today, but as usual, no one showed up for that. We were chatting with one of the well drillers right before we both headed out. The only kind one that may have some brains and that may be somewhat honest. We’re now at 700’ and still no water. Dan’s been sick, he says, and I was making little comments about how glad I was to hear he was sick, then Tom told me afterward that that was Dan’s son. Well, I didn’t know. He doesn’t look like Dan any more than Brian’s son looks like him, but that’s not a surprise. A good 80% of the time kids look more like their mothers. I resemble both my parents, and unfortunately, God picked out each one’s worst features to give to me. I’ve got my dad’s long chin and little hole of a mouth, and my mom’s lousy shape.