You’d think having 9 hours of sleep would be enough, but nope. I was still exhausted when the alarm went off at 8:00. At least I didn’t have any nightmares. I woke up for a sec at 6:30 but went right back to sleep. I’ve been beat lately. I guess all the stress of the sickos’ shit is wearing me down.

I get so bored a lot lately, that I almost wish I couldn’t type nearly as fast as I talk so it’d take me longer to jot down my thoughts, but I’d rather be bored than bogged down with court dates. In fact, I better enjoy this boredom, really savor it, cuz it’s not going to last. I am going to literally be bogged down with court dates, then counseling, then community service, then God only knows what else, so I better enjoy this freedom and spare time while I can.

Tom’s attitude towards the people back east is to be commended and admired. Most people would be like – but they’re your family. Makeup with them and just be nice. Just put up with how they are cuz they’re your family. However, Tom happily supports my not having anything to do with them. He knows what they’re like. He didn’t just hear about it from me, he got to see it for himself as well.

About two nights ago was when it really hit me that it’s over (I just wish it were over with the blacks and Mexicans!) and that my dumping them is the best thing I ever did. How it hit me was when I asked myself how I’d react if I found out they died. Well, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t react in any way or feel anything. I wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t get mad, wouldn’t get glad. I don’t care when and how they die, and personally, I don’t care to know about it, either. Even if they changed - it’s too late. I don’t want to know them from nothing.

Later...

It’s a good thing I learned long ago to save regularly, cuz right after I typed my last sentence, we had a 20-minute power failure. Even the phone was dead, and God, you don’t realize just how much those mice stink till the air cleaner’s off!

Anyway, as I was saying about the assholes back east, the blacks, the Mexicans, who I’ll always love to bitch about even if I want nothing to do with them – maybe I should’ve called them blacks and Mexicans. Maybe I should’ve said something threatening in my mail to Tammy. That way I’d be accused of something that was true for a change. For some ridiculous reason, I thought that if you didn’t say something, no one would say that you did, but people will say anything when they’re pissed at you. If all I called Tammy was a bitch, she’d say I called her that and more. The blacks and Mexicans aren’t the only ones who can lie and hype things up, though. I intend to do the same in court every chance I get, as long as it’s something that can’t be proven.

The next time a black or a Mexican asks someone why they “decided” to be a racist, I hope that someone reminds them that they make people racists.

I still hold to my word too, of not hiring an attorney. These people took my peace, my sleep, my freedom, and they aren’t getting our money. I’ll be damned if I’ll pay to defend myself against the very people who abused me. They’re the perpetrators, not me.

I thought more about us getting a gun and as I told Tom, I’m not changing my mind, but there’s no way I could get off on self-defense if someone came through a window or kicked in a door. No matter how obvious it was that it was self-defense, you know I’d go down for murder cuz of how screwy the law is and cuz of my shit luck with the law. I may not always get punished, but I always get caught when I do something society doesn’t think I should do (like with the phone calls), so knowing that, I’m sure I’d be imprisoned forever for shooting even in self-defense. At this point, I’d rather be killed than kill and be locked up forever, but I’m not gonna let cops, laws or anyone influence the way I live either, and the things I do. No one’s gonna bully me into or out of anything, and a gun is something all sane, responsible people should get, no matter what the odds are of them having to use it, cuz the world’s just too crazy.

Houdini usually comes out to play at sundown and he’s so cute! He knows to stay by his cage and hang around there only. If he starts straying out of bounds, I call him and he comes back. He’s been chewing up the carpet in the corner behind the cage, though, so I put that ugly wooden chest there that Tom thinks is so cool, with a spare piece of carpet on top of it for him to tear up.

Ratsy comes to the door and to the sides of the cage to be acknowledged, but he hardly ever comes out. He mostly sleeps.