I discovered Mocha, one of my mice, dead today. Tom thinks she had tumors, but I don’t know. The way she was shaped made me think she was just fat and may have even had a litter before we bought her. We buried her but didn’t bother with a marker.

Tom’s suddenly so sorry for “doing more bad things to me than I have to him,” as were his words. I don’t know how sincere he is, but anyway, perhaps that’s why he suddenly wants the male mouse we’ve been talking about getting. I know he enjoys checking out the animals, and he says he loves all his pets, even if he thinks rats are mean-looking, but we know that the animals are mainly for me. I just don’t get how he can say, year after year, that he’s so sorry for “being a failure in bed” yet not do anything about it. All he does is say he’s sorry. Meanwhile, he just keeps on doing the same old shit.

I guess it’s going to be easier said than done as far as giving Tom a taste of his own medicine. I just can’t do the things he does without feeling guilty. I just can’t jerk him around about sex or about anything like he has to me. Besides, jerking him around sexually, or being predictable, won’t faze him. I guess I’m just forever at his mercy in bed. I either put up with the never-ending predictability and lame excuses in bed, or I don’t have sex at all. At least we’re back to sex in part-time spurts like I knew we’d be, so I don’t have to deal with his shit too often.

We discussed the possibility of moving to a retirement community like Sun City or Sun Lakes in about 15 years.