Sure enough, the longer we’re here, the more I hear. I guess one of the houses across the street recently sold, according to the newsletter that was delivered yesterday, and so there have been some service trucks doing whatever around the place. I could see that one of them was an electrician.

Then the guy next door started with the blower, and well, sometimes I wish the mornings were a little quieter. What’s important is that it’s nothing that could override the sound machine and wake me up and that we no longer have to deal with pesky landlords.

I was a bit worried for a minute when I read the newsletter and saw that they were to be grinding streets one day, paving them the next, then striping them the next day. I was like, what are we, back with the Jes pest and all his annoying projects? But then I saw it wasn’t the whole park they were going to be doing in a couple of weeks, but just one street.

Chatted with my overseas hottie and now Tom should be home anytime now.

I have found that cutting back on food is much like when I’d try to cut back on smoking many years ago. It doesn’t last long. You either smoke or you don’t. So now I’m applying the same attitude towards eating. I know it will stunt my metabolism even more, but sometimes the healthier route fails to work and then we resort to the unhealthier route. The hunger and fatigue is a killer, though I did have a drinkable kiddy yogurt a while ago.

I love that I can turn my head and see this beautiful pink rose bush right outside the window. I just wish the bushes in front were a little higher as that would add privacy.

Now someone’s working on something across the side street. :( And I thought I escaped the hammers and the saws forever. Goes to show that if you’re me, the past will always return to haunt you. :(

Later…

What’s with the hypocrisy tonight? I get messages from this woman from time to time and every single one of them has been to complain about something I wrote in my own blog. What, does she think it’s her duty to critique and judge me? Tonight she’s complaining that I complain too much, thus being guilty of the exact same thing. Never does she point out the many positive things I’ve had to say, though she did say I was a good writer. Yeah, well, that’s very nice of her but if she doesn’t like what I have to say, then maybe she needs to go read someone else’s blog. It’s fine that not everyone agrees with me and all that, but no one has a right to judge me or try to change me. If I want to change something about myself it will be for me and me only. Not for society, not for any group, not for any person, and not to be “normal.” Also, just because I may point out a service truck doing something that was a bit distracting doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a complaint but just an observation I’m making. Still, I make NO apologies for how I am. “Never apologize for being you,” someone advised me years ago and that was the best advice I was ever given. I realize I may say, think, feel, believe and do things that some would consider different or just downright wrong, but I’m me. Period. And I’m not about to apologize for being who I am! :)

Regardless of how others perceive my words, the place went dead quiet after 3pm like it usually does. It’s so wonderful and peaceful other than the usual landscaping sounds you’d expect to hear in a nice neighborhood during the morning.

Andy recommended I get weekly massages cuz I sometimes have backaches, but nah. I’d only like them when I was sore and it’s not really a high priority. I’d rather save half our money and put the other half toward the house. Tom agrees though we’ll use a little of it for fun here and there. Other than nail polish and perfume, I’m not like most women who are into all kinds of things like massages, clothes, fine dining and other luxuries in life. I’m more of a simple person. I also couldn’t guarantee I’d be awake or not busy doing other things at the time of the massage. He cracks me up, though, “A hot woman rubbing my back.” But what if it was a guy?

Anyway, I look around me and I can’t believe all this is ours! I could go on and on about the wonderful points of both the house and park, but then I’d be writing till my fingers felt like they were going to break off. No, it’s not perfect any more than any other place, but it’s pretty damn close compared to how we were living before. We lived so poorly for so long that this is all the more appreciated and wonderful to us.

I try not to think of that old saying about how all good things come to an end. I don’t know why but I still get the nagging feeling that something up there did not want us to have this place. Something a lot more powerful than I’ll ever be. And sometimes I worry about being “punished” for it, especially me. If money isn’t a convenient weapon to use against us with how much he’s making at his job and what I’m generating online, I worry it – whatever “it” is – may go after my health instead. Well, the funny thing is that my feet and ankles are still swollen. I think it’s cuz I’ve been more active since getting out of that cramped old trailer, though, and that nothing serious is going on. I hope not anyway. I’ll get checked out after I finish dealing with the dentist.

If anything there have been positive changes. My schedule isn’t rolling as fast and I’m having fewer days/nights of being up 18 hours, which made it much harder to stop it from rolling. I always did say that if my schedule miraculously held steady or they came up with a cure for this thing, then with my shit luck it would be when I was too old to work. After all, I always believed I was given the damn disorder to keep me from being able to double our income. Better later than never but right now I don’t see how it could change for the better that much.