Tom got a raise which is to be effective beginning tomorrow and will be switching to a day job that was created especially for him (without overtime) within a month or so. He gets more money for working nights, but with the raise factored in, he’ll be making the same amount of money on days that he’s making now on nights. The question is - how much will this new job improve our lives? Will we really have more time to do things and will we do more things? I can forget about it improving our sex lives in any way. That’ll never change, thanks to his fears and stubbornness. It’ll always be the same old, same old, and I wonder if I’ll ever have the desire to cum by him again.

Last night I set up the blue card table in the retreat that Doe and Art shipped out to me when I first came out here (I drew last night, and still want to get another table for that room). That’s where the air bed is too, so he can sleep in there on that when his mother visits. If she visits. I mean, what do we have to offer her? We have no kids to entertain her with. Just rats, mice and dolls, and somehow I think she’d find that quite boring.

My allergies have been picking up lately. For a while, my lungs were even better than they were when I was on the prescription inhalers, but last night they were tight. For the last few days, I’ve woken up sneezing, so I pushed myself to dust and vacuum really well today, concentrating on the bedroom and getting under the bed really well.

Evelyn gave us a housewarming present - a stained glass rose that I hung in the living room window. It’s pretty. She said she figured she ought to just give that to him since we’re obviously not having a housewarming party. No, those are for the freeloaders and selfish people just like them.

We also got a strange thing that was thicker than a sheet, but not thick enough to be a blanket. Tom said he’ll ask Mary some time what that’s all about.

Last night I got pissed at Tom for being so moody that I said he was working on putting me out of the mood for sex and that he could just go play with himself for all I cared. A little while later, though, he came where I was reading in bed and we were laughing and talking and I assumed all was fine at that point and that he knew that, but when I brought up the subject of sex later, he was like - I thought you said no. Then he went on to tell me how he gets disappointed when we don’t do it. Could’ve fooled me, I told him. Then he said that just because he didn’t always show his feelings didn’t mean he doesn’t have them. Fine. Whatever. I just want the sex problems left in Phoenix to stay!