He’s gone. Meanwhile, I am gonna get him good sexually! If only he knew just how sexually doomed he is to be in a month from now. I’ve had it with the sex games! Now it’s his turn to get a taste of his own medicine, and believe me, I’m gonna make every lame excuse in the book and do nothing but bitch and complain about how his doing this or that turns me off in bed, and this distracts me, and this stresses me, etc. Let him feel like the little freak he’s made me feel. Let him feel unappreciated in bed. He isn’t the only one who’s quit cumming, that’s for sure.

Tonight he had to have ice cream, something he knows his stomach can’t tolerate well, so he could have an upset stomach and an excuse to avoid sex and laze out in front of the TV. The fucking TV turns him on more than I do, and I don’t care how beautiful he always tells me I am. Of course, I’m sure part of it is because I made the excuse to bail out of the same old bullshit sex last night. It’s like he has to give me a taste of my own medicine when I make excuses to get out of sex and do the same thing right back.

Anyway, his 30 days are up and we’re having less sex and there are certainly no squirts. Yeah, I knew it, the lying SOB. Why does this guy have to lie so much when it comes to sex? He doesn’t lie about other subjects. Why can’t he just come out and face his fears? See, this isn’t just about his not being able to own up to his fears, it’s a game to him. It turns him on to turn me off, and boy let me tell you, I am turned off. I’ve never before felt this turned off. I’ve lost any ounce of sexual interest I could possibly have left for this man. I just have no desire for him in bed. It doesn’t detract from how much I love him, but by God, I’ve had it with him sexually. If we never had sex again, I wouldn’t miss it. He’s so scared and he’s so stubborn when it comes to sexual changes and he’s so obsessed with his games, that he can’t even show a little appreciation for me in bed even just once in a while. It’s a miracle I don’t want a woman. A woman not just inside my head that I fantasize about. I’m just so sick of the idea of sex with anyone. It’s not new and exciting anymore and hasn’t been for years.

Anyway, the liar told me that in 30 days we’d be screwing 2-3 times a week and he’d cum once a week. Well, in my letter to him, which I’ll give him on April 7th, I’m gonna let him know just how I feel for the last time. And I mean the last time. I’m tired of his sex lies and games in bed, I refuse to fight with him over sex in this house from here on out. Also, he is not going to control my reproductive system. Only God can do that. He will not con or manipulate me out of having a kid if I choose to do that someday. I won’t hesitate to use a sperm donor if that’s what I have to do, cuz this guy will never change, but fine. Now he can have his way; he can stay cumless and never hear me bring it up again. He’ll never have to deal with it. He can just stay the way he so obviously wants to be. Even so, I think I’ll always have some bitterness and resentment toward him for what he’s done to me. I mean, I may not want a kid right now, thank God, but how dare he fucking tell me in the past that he wanted a kid, yet refuse to do anything to help himself or to let himself be helped so he could make the necessary changes in order for me to conceive naturally if I truly could like he’s so sure I can. He had a lot of nerve saying he wanted a kid, then I try to help him and suggest he do things to help himself and see a doctor, then he turns around and bitches at me for trying to change him. That’s really fucking cold and insensitive. Meanwhile, I’m the one going through the painful testing. He won’t talk to no one, he won’t try stimulants, and this tells me something quite obvious - that he doesn’t want to change. He wants to be the way he is. Anyone who didn’t would try to get help. Not make up bullshit lame excuses and say that not talking about it, which is really a form of not dealing with it, will be their magic cure.

Later...

Today hasn’t exactly been a thrilling day. I couldn’t get to sleep till nearly 6:00 in the fucking morning, they fucking woke me up at 9:20, then when I got up with the alarm at 11:00 I was exhausted. I still am, too. Meanwhile, to top things off, fucking Dan just started with the engine-gunning. This cock cannot go one solid week without putting on a show, can he?

I started to get all psyched at the letter we did receive, believe it or not, from the Bowflex people saying we have been approved for the complete machine, but as I figured, there’s always a catch to good news. They wanted three references. One related and two personal. The relative one was fine, cuz Mary’s reliable, but as for personals, all we could think of was Paula and Kim. If they call these people, though, we can kiss the Bowflex goodbye, cuz I don’t even have Kim’s current number (I made one up), and you never know what a stupid, brainless idiot like Paula will say.

Again, can’t we just have something without the song and dance? Isn’t paying $53 a month for three years enough of a payment? Can’t we simply just have something?

Later...

Due to the fact that I haven’t heard any booms since being up, I wonder if I may have dreamt that they woke me up this morning. After all, I was kind of having a nightmare. I don’t remember what the nightmare was, but who knows? Maybe I dreamt it, maybe I didn’t. Tom was even insisting that he felt a slight shudder last Saturday morning at 8:30, but that I must’ve dreamt them waking me up an hour later, cuz he didn’t hear or feel a thing. I don’t know. I’m still going to try to get up around 9:00 regularly anyway, both because I want to and to be on the safe side. That way I don’t have to worry about being woken up. Sundays I’ll sleep in till they take my Sundays, too, and if they’ve flown on Saturdays I’m sure they’ll take that, too.

Another thing I’m not sure of is whether or not that was Dan’s engine and music I heard earlier, or was it the tractors that grade the roads? Those sound a lot like someone was revving an engine, only what I heard was softer, suggesting it was further away than Dan. God knows the roads did need grading after the rain. Also, the bass I thought I heard didn’t have a beat, and some big vehicles tend to sound bassy from a distance, so I don’t know for sure what I heard.

Yeah, the rain has finally quit. We had a lot of rain, too! It rained steadily for over 24 hours. No leaks!

Looking through the binoculars out the living room window, I discovered a bridge off in the distance. I don’t know what it is. I’ll have to ask Tom. I don’t know if it’s a bridge that cars drive over, or if it’s just a scenic walkway for people, which would seem a bit odd in such a low-populated area. I wonder where it goes and what’s under it.

I can see a flashing light from my office window at night way off in the distance. I’m pretty sure it’s where the crop duster’s airport is.

Scuttles is so cute in the way he sticks his head through the bars to have his head patted. He can get out as far as his shoulders. Ratsy decided to take an afternoon stroll. I was surprised he wanted to come out and run around at 3:30, being the nocturnal creature he is. He ran around the living room, the dining area, the bedroom, and the bathroom, then went home and back to bed. It still amazes me how these rats go home when they’re done exploring. Most animals wouldn’t do that and would run from you when you tried to get them to bring them home.

I called and left Paula a message letting her know that the Bowflex people may call her and that I used her as a reference.

I can’t wait to finally have that! At least I hope there are no more problems getting it from here on out. I may have lost a few pounds and toned down certain bulging areas lately, but man do I look awful! I’m flabby, sagging, and furrowed, not to mention a good 4-5 inches too big in most spots. I really hate my face and neck more and more. They’ve really gone to hell. I have ugly furrows running from the corners of my lips down, and a double chin from hell. Tom doesn’t think I have a double chin, but I say my neck’s definitely sagging and needs some picking up. He doesn’t even think I’m fat. He thinks my weight’s fine and all I need to do is tone up. I wish that were the case.

Later...

We were just out burning some trash. We could hear an owl hooting nearby. We also heard, but only for half a second, a thunderous rumble that sounded exactly like those jets. Are we getting into night flying now, too? God, I hope not!