I just changed the rats’ cage and thought I’d do a blog entry before I finish cleaning. Two hours into my sleep my heart raced me awake like it would when I was on Prozac. I’ve been fine since I’ve been up, and again, my TSH score was too high to be medication-induced anxiety. 

Tom thinks it could’ve been any number of things… being out in the sun yesterday… Being excited about the new monitor… getting extra sleep because I have no appointments in the near future. We also read that menopause can cause it. I have been going back and forth in my mind trying to decide whether or not menopause is setting in. I still think it’s starting to. There’s no way I’m going to get a period on the 30th as scheduled. I simply don’t have enough PMS symptoms. 

I hate to rush summer along because it’s my favorite season, but part of me wishes I could make it July 10th. That would not only mark two years in this house, but I would also be past the six-week marker that I encountered trouble with my present dose a year ago. 

I went to remove the gel polish I recently got that’s temperature color changing and OMG! I can’t get the shit to budge. It doesn’t come off like regular polish. Even my other gel polishes can be removed easily enough. Not this stuff, though. With this stuff, you have to file it to scuff the surface area a bit. Then you have to soak each finger in acetone remover for seven minutes before sloughing it off with an orange stick. Had I known that, I never would’ve gotten the stuff for I am not that patient a person. If I don’t have the patience for stupid people that just can’t catch on fast enough, or for immature people, why would I have the patience for this? 

I had a dream I was at my dentist’s office, only she had a private windowless waiting room with a table in the middle of it. She also added a pet store where I got a Hermit crab. The dream gave me a good idea because I placed the crab in one of those plastic balls that rodents used to run around in, and I thought maybe the rats could go in that and have their freedom without risking harm from the cat. Not sure they would like that, though, because they’re so used to running around loose. 

Later… 

Had a half-hour chat with my sister. She described her new house and the area it’s in and it sounds like heaven. I am glad that she has this to look forward to because she is still not very healthy. 

Sure enough, she’s having problems with these Puerto Ricans above her who recently moved in. I knew she would, especially being in a low-income complex. She said everybody else has been wonderful to them, but not these people. She wouldn’t get into exactly what the problem was or what was being done about it, but it supposedly has to do with the Puerto Ricans thinking that they complained on them. Well, Tammy certainly has complained on people before… a number of times. But it doesn’t involve me and so it doesn’t matter. She’s almost out of there anyway. 

Anyway, she asked that I don’t post this personal information in public, but she got a hell of a deal compared to us. You know we always get the short end of the stick, not that this isn’t a beautiful house in a beautiful park and that Florida isn’t a lot cheaper than California. Our space rent, which includes trash and everything, is over $800. She will pay just $550 for everything. Her house is not only 300 more square feet bigger, not that we need the extra space, but it’s a 2006 model she’s getting for just 40K. I envy her space rent and how new her place is! The only things I didn’t like that she told me was that she’s right across from the clubhouse and her park is not gated. 

No wonder she’s never shown up on my visitor list. It isn’t that she disables cookies, it’s that she either uses her phone or her Kindle HD. 

Thank goodness I am shitty with numbers/counting. It wasn't 6 weeks into the first time I was on this dose that I ran into trouble, it was 10 weeks. I started on April 28th and the shit hit the fan on July 9th. Thank goodness I keep a journal too, so I could look this up. Well, the 10-week marker for this time around isn't July 3rd like I thought, it's Saturday. So glad Tom will be home that day, even if I still think I’ll be ok! I practically cried tears of relief at this realization. His birthday is Sunday, so will be swimming and I’m going to be cooking for him. 

Anyway, July 9th is definitely the 1-year anniversary that the shit hit the fan because it was one day before we’d been in the house for one year. My old therapist said with PTSD it's common to have some unwanted flashbacks on the first anniversary. Yeah, I know. Heard that before, been there before, etc., but I will distract myself with all kinds of things that day. 

Life is otherwise wonderful. I just sometimes wish I were closer to family and friends. I know I could go out and make new friends here, but it really wouldn’t be the same, would it? The best of friends are made by accident. Just like looking for love doesn’t usually work, deliberately trying to make friends doesn’t usually work either. At least not for me. Good friends don’t usually come by effort or force, but because fate threw you together. This doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with trying to intentionally make friends; it’s just not something I have had much luck with in the past, not that I’ve put any effort into it for many years. The older I get, the busier I get, and the less I have the time or desire to socialize. The Internet also changes things in many ways. We can tell each other the same things online at our own convenience that we can face to face.