Andy really annoys the shit out of me with all his pics on Ask that include jokes and comments about race. I’ve told him a million times I’m sick to death of hearing about race, but it’s like he doesn’t give a shit. I know he has serious memory issues, but come on, how many times do I need to tell the guy before it sinks in? Maybe my lack of commenting about it and checking into Ask less often will drive it home, if my suspicions are correct about him trying to annoy me. If he is trying to annoy me, though, then that kind of tells me something about his character that isn’t very good. True friends shouldn’t deliberately annoy each other like this, should they? 

Still worrying about my health/medication issues and still trying to tell myself that I’m not going to drop dead and that sooner or later it will be resolved. I just don’t know how or when. Either way, it’s not easy to just tell myself this just like I couldn’t just “tell” myself the sky is really neon yellow with hot pink polka dots. No one would ever have a negative emotion or concern in the world if it were that simple. Instead, I’m trying to keep as busy as I can to distract myself from focusing on it too much. 

I’m still 99% sure one of these drugs was responsible for the anxiety attacks, and as Tom and I agree, we need to get the doctors to consider how I feel and not a bunch of numbers on a blood test. Remember, when I first went to the doctor it wasn’t because I felt bad, it was because my body wouldn’t respond to diet and exercise and I wanted to know why. I also hadn’t had a check-up in a million years. 

Meanwhile, I still have my various aches and pains – a funny feeling on my tongue, irritation in my throat, neck pain, mosquito bites, head rushes – and I still wonder if I’m under some kind of new curse. I broke the money curse, though, and I’ll break this one too, if I have to. Really, I just want a day without aches, pains and worries! Just one day. 

Since everything is thrown off when you’re not treating hypothyroidism, my period is late, not surprisingly, but that’s nothing. Why do women have to get periods beyond their childbearing years anyway? Even if I’d been as fertile as a rabbit, no one can get knocked up at 48, almost 49, years of age. 

Last night at 9:30 I heard a guy shouting somewhere in back. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed, drunk or scared, like something was wrong with someone or something like that and he was freaking out. 

The lady across the street took off a couple of days ago for the holiday, and next door’s been quiet at least for today. They haven’t had company and they haven’t come and gone like they usually do, but I’m sure the garage activities, along with the daily outings will resume come Tuesday. I should be sleeping through most of it. I slept forever last night so I’ve got to start setting alarms to help hold my schedule till my appointment. 

I woke up a few times here and there, as usual, and had a million dreams. I know I had a few that my dentist was in, but the only one I remember is her sending a letter saying she was dropping all patients who needed 3 or more shots of Novocain during procedures, LOL. 

Why, though, do I dream of this particular doctor more than any other? Doctors C and D have only starred in one dream so far that I can recall. 

When I think of people like Angelina Jolie, I don’t envy them for the reasons most people do, though I also admit I’m not a celebrity worshipper to begin with and haven’t been for nearly two decades now. I don’t envy Angie for her fame and beauty; I envy her for the money and support she has. I’d HATE to be famous and not be able to go to the freaking store in peace. I don’t care who knows what about me for the most part, or what people think of me, but I can’t imagine having to take bodyguards everywhere I went so people wouldn’t hound me. I also don’t care about my appearance as much as how I feel. But what I WOULD love to have when Tom and I grow old and are facing the end is more money and support than we could ever need like she has. I can’t imagine her ever not having enough money for whatever medical expenses arise, and between all those kids she has and other people she knows, I can’t imagine her not having more than sufficient support when she’s old, ill or dying. 

I realize, however, that even if all my friends were suddenly in my town – everyone I know from the US to other countries – it wouldn’t be fair of me to count on them in the end. Those that were still alive, anyway. They’d have their own lives to worry about after all. But will we at least have money to hire the help we may need? That remains to be seen. Just because we’re doing ok now doesn’t mean we always will be. 

On a more fun note, we made a huge Amazon order of both fun stuff and necessities. Bedding for the rats, Co-Q10 supplements for Tom, blue cushions for our stools, and a 200-dollar trimming package for all these damn shrubs and bushes. It would cost a million times more to have everything removed and gravel put in its place. Even just getting rid of our one tree would cost a lot more. So that’s why Tom got a kit with a pole saw so he doesn’t have to climb dangerously high to trim branches. There are 8 tools in all, and we have 5 months to pay for everything. 

I got patchouli wax melts, a small brass erotic figurine, and a bigger erotic one that’s painted. 

We started painting over the kitchen wallboard design with a sunny shade of yellow and were disappointed to find it was much tougher to do than we thought. We knew it wouldn’t be a quick and simple job just because of all the damn edging involved going around counter baseboards, cabinets and the window, but the surface is basically the same material as the unpainted paneling. We’re just not getting good coverage with a brush. We need to pick up some mini rollers. Tom’s going to grab some stuff tomorrow.