We were all set to start painting the living room but then I ran out of painter’s tape. I’m too short to edge by the ceiling but I can do the windows so long as I use a step stool. 

Tom had to trim one of the dead trees in back and his arms are sore as hell, so I don’t know if we’ll do any actual painting today or not. Probably not. He feels motivated to get in as good of shape as I’m in, LOL. 

Because his arms were sore, I emptied out and dragged out the two small dressers from the master bedroom and placed them in the living room. One dresser was given to us by a co-worker of Tom’s in Oregon and the other was left here by the previous owners. Sometime soon enough I plan to get a long dresser that’s more modern and more my style. 

We plan to put the couch, stools and dressers out first. Hopefully, someone will take them so we can add more since there’s a limit to what you can put out. Then we’ll put the old dishwasher out and a bunch of boxes. 

Tomorrow it’s back to my usual online work, the next chapter of my book, running, cleaning, etc. Maybe I’ll do some proofreading tonight, but man does reading back on some of the shit I went through piss me the fuck off. Writing is very therapeutic when you’re actually going through a traumatizing or stressful experience. Reading back on it afterward, however, can rekindle some of that old animosity towards the people who helped cause it and the God who let it happen. It’s easy to say that revenge is a bad thing and that two wrongs don’t make a right when you’re in a good mood. When you’re not, you kinda want others to know exactly what it’s like to suffer as you have. Know what I’m saying? Just a few minutes of a few people materializing in this room before my very eyes would be all it would take. :)