Bad things are supposed to happen in threes. Well, yesterday the well conked out on us for a while, then Tom got another flat tire on the way to work, so I suppose that means I’m in for a bout of shitty sex tonight. We were gonna screw last night, but thanks to the well taking up his time and sleep, and thanks to that putting me in a foul mood, we didn’t get around to it. You’d think I was ovulating last night, but all God and Tom have to do is just see to it that he doesn’t cum when I’m supposedly ovulating, and I couldn’t get pregnant even if I were fertile.

I cleaned for a few hours on and off today, concentrating mainly on the kitchen and baths. That’s what I normally have planned for Thursdays, anyway.

I also handwrote a letter to Paula since I still don’t have ink cartridges and I gave her our number. I’m sure I’m going to live to regret that too, cuz during the times she has a phone, I’m sure she’ll be a regular little Andy M, calling nearly every day, but if I don’t want to chat, I just won’t pick up. I wonder if she read all I sent her in that big envelope. If she did, cool. If she didn’t, I understand she may have gotten bored with it. After all, all I did was bitch about how the incompetent, asshole cocks were holding us up from getting in the house and fucking us over.

I’m having a little note sent to Tom at the PO Box, cuz I’m curious to see what the postmark says.

I’ve changed the decor inside the house from what I used to have in other places I lived. It’s still youthful and colorful, but there is a bit more maturity to it than there used to be. It’s less gaudy and I’ve hung up my celebrity pictures. Dolls and southwestern stuff are what the main decorations are now that I’ve developed more of a taste over the years for decoration themes. In the past, I’d put any wall-hanging and any knickknack anywhere, but not anymore. Now I’m picky about what I put where.

It’s not even mid-February and already the days are getting longer and warmer. It made it to just over 80º in here right before the sun sunk below the mountain. Another degree or two and I’d have AC’d it.

Speaking of Andy - do I miss him? No, I do not. I’ll always remember him and wish him the best in my heart and mind, and I’ll cherish the fonder and fun memories I have of him, but I just don’t regret or feel guilty about cutting him off. Maybe some people would say I should or maybe some people would understand why I did what I did, but I did what I had to do and am OK with it. I figured I would be or else I probably wouldn’t have done it. As for the family, still to this day, despite my sending pictures of the house/land, I certainly have absolutely no regrets. I had to break that abusive cycle. Andy wasn’t downright abusive, though. He was annoying and selfish, but nothing compared to the family. Another reason I had to let go of Andy was because of the drugs. In this day and age and with having a husband, I couldn’t afford to risk getting pulled over in his car with him and his pot even though it never happened before. The only reason I sent mail to the family was that I wanted to speak my mind in a way that was best for me where I wouldn’t be interrupted or hung up on. So unless they didn’t read it or it got lost in the mail or misdelivered, they know how I feel. After the pictures of the house, land, us, animals, and dolls get mailed to them, it’ll probably be a very long time before I ever contact them again, if I ever even do so again. The only one I regret not being in regular contact with is Lisa.