Just thought I would rant. Andy’s memory loss issues are so frustrating. It’s not just an occasional thing either; I constantly have to go over the same things with him, and it’s not always easy to be patient. It’s frustrating to tell him something because I know it’s a 50-50 chance he’ll remember it. It feels like I’m sending my words down a garbage disposal instead of into someone’s ears when I talk to him.

I believe that the 30 years he smoked pot likely contributed to his memory issues. However, I still wonder at times how much of it may be just plain selfishness and not caring enough to listen to the things I say. He asked me if I ever tried Nutrisystem’s food, so I searched my 2014 journal and found I had mentioned it 30 times. Thirty times! I also mentioned it to him on Ask and posted a picture when the food arrived on Facebook, which I know he saw. How many times can you tell someone the same thing before it sticks?

Not too long ago, I told him I was tired of the translation game where he’d post a picture with writing in another language for me to translate, and what does he do? He goes and posts a German quote and asks me to translate it.

He has been known in the past to be insensitive and even enjoy annoying, grossing out, and offending people, so what am I to think? It’s like how someone gets a prank phone call and my name is the first one they think of. However, I wasn’t always guilty, so maybe he isn’t always messing with me either, as I sometimes suspect. I suspect his doctor doesn’t understand the extent of his memory issues because I doubt he would come out and say, “By the way, Doc, I smoked weed for 30 years.”

Andy is one of those people I will always love and hate at the same time. Well, hate might be too strong a word, but I certainly have mixed emotions. A part of me wishes he didn’t have so much free time on his hands, but I know I would miss him if he suddenly weren’t around.

Later...

My period is now three weeks late, and I’m still wondering when, if ever, it’s going to show up. Tom and I both think I’ll get it sooner or later. I swear I feel these little pre-cramps, signaling that it’s about to begin, but then it never does. I hope there is nothing wrong with me, though neither of us thinks there is. I just had an exam not too long ago after all.

I’m just so tired of the long-drawn-out PMS phases. Nobody should have more than a few days to a week of PMS. Instead, I feel like I spend half my life PMSing.

Whenever I worry that something may kill me before I am old or before Tom dies, since I plan to go when he goes, I remind myself that the cursed don’t usually die young. If I’m right about being cursed throughout much of my life, then why would it kill me now? After all, if I’m dead, it can’t have its fun with me. This theory gives me a little hope that maybe if there is an afterlife, it truly is better than this life. If it weren’t, then why not just hurry up and kill me if it does harbor any hatred for me?

Although I’ve been a little better, death and dying are still on my mind too much. Too often, my mind plays out different scenarios of how the end may come. I worry that no matter how or when I die, I won’t go as peacefully as my parents and brother were said to have gone, and that I will suffer great agony in the end. And what if the afterlife is actually much, much worse?

While I still feel like I have many different things to look forward to in life, I also feel like life is one big waiting game and I’m just making the best of it until it ends. Technically, I suppose that’s all any of us can do.

When I’m in a gloomy mood, it’s easier to focus on the negative aspects of life, just like it’s easier to focus on the positive aspects when I’m in a better mood. His income is a great example of that. The most important thing in life is to be able to pay for the things you need. There is absolutely no doubt about that, and I meant it when I said that I would be grateful for just that much even if there was never any extra money. However, I can’t help but feel insulted for my husband and his year 2000 income. The average income is 50K these days, according to a chart I read that lists yearly averages from 1952 on up. So then why is my husband, who has worked very hard for so many years, making 32K without overtime? Twenty- and thirty-year-olds make twice as much, yet here he is busting his ass off for an income fit for 15 years ago. Even in Maricopa, he wasn’t making the national average. He was still 5-6 years behind even then. So what is he going to do, get paid an income fit for 2005 in 2025?

If I weren’t cursed with my schedule problem and was paid fairly, we could be making a total of 100K. Instead, we get a measly 32K. I’m just tired of being cheated when it comes to money. I should be getting disability benefits. I should have inherited a lot more than I did.

Life is never fair, he says. True, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I accept it. I expect it. But I definitely don’t like it.

Yes, my sleep disorder is one of my biggest curses, which sometimes gets me down. We rescheduled the ear doctor for later in the week, but there’s no way I can make it. I don’t feel bad for having to cancel because she did it to me, but it’s just one more thing I have to deal with. I still feel like all these appointments are having the cockroach effect where they keep breeding and multiplying. I’m hoping against hope that after I see my endo doc and have my foot followed up on, I can schedule appointments for both my eyes and ears, and catch a break over the summer.

I try to look at the good in my schedule-less life, although it is not always easy to do. Life would be more convenient if I were always on days, but then I would have to listen to the daytime noise about 20 days a month instead of about 10 days a month. Being on nights not only allows me to enjoy the peace and quiet, but it also allows me to go out exercising during the summer nights when it’s cooler.

I have been getting lazy again where my story is concerned. I always seem to be off to a good start, but then somewhere between 5K-10K words, I get tired of it.

Later...

Thought I’d start my entry while my food is cooling. Then I am going to eat and do some cleaning. After that’s done I will return to finish this entry. There really isn’t anything to update on, though. Once it’s cooler and traffic dies down around 9 or 10 this evening, I will go out walking.

In last night’s dream, the Kim that I briefly knew down in Arizona was responsible for committing some huge crime that somehow affected me along with many others. I was so pissed off that I threatened to kill her if she ever got out of prison and I was able to find her.

In another dream, Tom had his own apartment way up in a high-rise building. LOL, what’s up with that?

In yet another dream, I was at Valleyhead. Fun. :( I awoke in the dark parking lot in a van. Maybe I fell asleep after some of us were out somewhere and nobody wanted to wake me up. It was pitch black when I stepped out of the van. I couldn’t even see where the house was. I looked up toward the sky, trying to see if I could make out its roof against the sky but couldn’t. I knew it had rained recently and that there would be puddles scattered around the ground. I then realized I had on my nice new white slippers and that they would get filthy as I trekked through the muddy water.

Once inside the building, the sun was coming up and I looked at my bed longingly (the bottom bunk in a huge room), wishing I could return to sleep.

Instead, I went to shower with my slippers on in hopes of cleansing the mud from them.

When I was done, a blonde girl who might’ve been Maria raised her head from one of the upper bunks 2-3 bunks away from mine. She called to me in a hushed tone since most of the others were still asleep, and I walked over to her. My father was still alive in this dream apparently, because when she insisted that my dad and my brother left their glasses behind the last time they visited and that they were in the office, I said, ”I’m pretty sure my dad would’ve returned for the glasses by now, and my brother is dead, so that can’t be.”

For some reason, she seemed skeptical and I seemed offended, but then I turned to go through some important papers because I was getting ready to leave the place for good.