Leave it to me to get another story idea before I have finished editing Rainstorm. 

Our insurance paid more for my last dentist visit than we thought they would. We thought they only paid for one of the two yearly exams, but nope. They apparently cover both. All we had to pay was the $20 the special fluoride toothpaste costs. 

No bad vibes about increasing my dose, and no nightmares. Just a weird dream where somebody posted on Facebook, “Brenda drove off a bridge,” and I knew they were referring to the Brenda I dated for nearly a year in the early '90s. 

As for the grumpy old man next door, Tom and I have decided that yes, if his racket escalates, we will contact the office. We took Jesse’s shit for half a decade because we had no choice, but we’re not about to take it here. I think – and seriously hope – that it won’t come to that. I really don’t want any trouble with anyone anywhere. I just want people to keep their projects, especially the unnecessary ones, for their ears only. Lately, he seems to get noisy every three days or so. If it gets to be every day or maybe even every other day, and he’s doing it off-hours more frequently, that’s what I’ll complain. I don’t want to complain unless it’s absolutely necessary. Being annoyed is one thing, but being driven crazy is another.