I was chatting with someone who knows someone who’s going through a really rough time in life. She said to me, “You know, Jodi, sometimes when she pours her heart out to me I really don’t know what to say.” 

Oftentimes it isn’t about what you can say to one who’s down, but how well you can listen. Sometimes just being there for them and being a good listener can go a long way toward helping to boost someone up. It’s usually better to remain in the gray areas. You don’t have to respond to every single thing they say, but if you say nothing at all it can make a person feel like you don’t give a shit, thus making them feel worse and regret reaching out to you. No one expects you to have a magic wand to wave that would make their troubles disappear. If you could do that, they could probably do it, too. 

Anyway, I hadn’t even been up 15 minutes when sure enough, Bob’s saw began to grate on my nerves. Fortunately, Virginia returned shortly afterward and hopefully reminded him that others live here too, since he did shut up pretty fast. Then they both took off after slamming SUV doors. Hopefully by the time they do return it will be too hot to play outside. Once the sawing escalates to 2-3 times a week I will remind him, in the kindest yet bluntest manner I can, just how few feet lie between his saw and the walls of our house. Hell, not even weekends are always guaranteed to be quiet around here. They spent an hour or so trimming palm trees across the street yesterday. After next door left I could hear them mowing the common area, but all is temporarily quiet at the moment. 

My pulse was slightly above 100, and yes, it was anxiety. When someone’s sawing just outside your windows and you see that your rash is getting worse all of a sudden, you’re not exactly calm, cool and collected. If my rash isn’t better in a few weeks I’ll need to let her know. I’m still nowhere near needing a chill pill, mind you, but due to a combination of it being a bit warm and my pulse being elevated, I’m going to wait till the sun starts setting before I go out riding. 

Oh, shit! Next door’s already back and slamming the shit out of their doors as they unload whatever. Wait… now the SUV’s in the garage. Why would they unload shit in their driveway, which is further from their door, then pull the thing into the garage? Either way, the fact that it’s in the garage tells me they’re not going out again, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m safe from Bob’s power tools. I probably am, but it’s not that hot out. Only 79° now and I’ve heard him working and seen him riding his bike up to 90°. 

I tell myself they’re better than getting next to welfare bums, college kids or the Brady Bunch, and they are, but they can still get annoying enough at times. 

Later… 

Tom will be working a long day today. Some special project going on, I guess. At least I slept in a bit so his absence won’t seem as long. I asked him if he thought he’d have mixed emotions about the day he retires. Like would he be happy but sad at the same time, feeling old or something like that? He said, “No, not at all. Everyone looks forward to the day they no longer have to work.” 

Well, my BIL was thrilled to retire and he seemed to like the work he did, too. Maybe not all of the people involved, but the work itself seemed to suit him well. 

Rats “jump for joy” when they get excited much like people, cats and dogs do. Oh, how funny it was seeing their reaction to last night’s lobster ravioli that I shared with them and the way they kept begging for more! LOL 

Bob’s tucked in for the day and then Xfinity came to steal my peace, though not much of it. Just some scattered door slamming of their van. They were working on the other side of the house somewhere. 

I’ve been asked about my music and Twitter preferences and what types of people I follow. I don’t usually follow individuals with “personal” accounts unless I know them. Tweets like, “I’m in the bathroom,” “I just ate dinner,” “I have a headache,” “Running late for work,” and “I have to go to the store now” bore me to tears. I mostly follow those that show pictures of nature and animals as well as funny/educational quotes and facts. I like to learn things I didn’t already know and see places I’ve never been to. Following some 22-year-old who tweets about mundane and immature stuff with the writing ability of a 6-year-old isn’t my thing. 

I was also asked if I was into oldies. I used to be into them big time, but now I prefer to listen to new stuff. One can only spend so many years, or better yet decades, listening to the same old stuff, though I do like a lot of stuff from the '70s and '80s. 

Gonna be getting a new living room set pretty much anytime now. It’s just a matter of finding a convenient time to go out looking. As experience taught us, never go out and buy something expensive as soon as you’ve saved the money for it. Wait till you’ve saved twice if not three times the amount, so that if an emergency comes up you haven’t drained your savings. 

Aly dumped Molly again. I knew she would, but sadly, I also know it's just a matter of time before she forgives her and starts the same old cycle of shit all over again. I'm sure I'm in for more blog views from Molly, seeing if I mention her or Aly, too. Maybe not Mommy Dearest because it's off for cancer surgery next month. Anyway, I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her in entries, and am even thinking of deleting a lot of “Molly mentions” from old entries. I’m not going to respond to any contact I may receive from her either, begging me to contact Aly for her or to ask if I’ve heard from her. She’d know that anyway as I’m sure she follows our tweets. 

Anyway, Aly swears she’s washed her hands of that relationship, but hopefully, she won’t ever dry them. It’s up to her. As I told her, though, every time she acknowledges her or her crazy mother, it’s like hitting the reset button on a timer as far as her getting the message and moving on. She’ll never get over her obsession with her if she puts her two cents in every so often. It’s gotta be all or nothing with people as crazy and unstable as Molly. As an old lady told me, don’t even bother trying to figure crazy out cuz crazy has no logic or reason. Crazy is just crazy!