Decisions, decisions. Do I work in the laundry room today no matter what? Or do I wait and see if Bob starts any shit out there first? 

Sometimes I still think maybe it was silly of me to be bothered by the walkway work since he does have a right to do repairs, but then I remember his shit attitude and that wipes any guilt or regrets away. 

I’ve been making a point not to run into him so he doesn’t provoke me in any way. If I assaulted someone between 18-70, they’d do a fraction of what was done to me for the “letter.” But an 86-year-old would get me imprisoned for at least a decade or so. Society has a “But they’re defenseless!” attitude. Not a “They don’t have much longer to live anyway,” attitude. 

Then again, does he not really have much longer to live? He could easily be fit enough to use hammers and power tools for another 5-10 years, which would be like a lifetime to me, of course. 

I hated to do this, but I realized that if something suddenly happened to Tom, I would be so distraught that I would have a hard time thinking clearly as I did what I wanted to do before killing myself and then actually killing myself. Therefore, I wrote out some final steps to take. I still think he’s going to die first, and that means I will almost certainly one day have to carry these plans out on my own, as terrifying as they may be. But death can suddenly sneak up on us when we least expect it. How can I be sure the pigs won’t knock on the door to say he was killed on the way to or from work? Therefore, I knew I needed a clear plan mapped out before my eyes because I sure as hell wouldn’t be thinking clearly as the sadness, loss, fear and anger engulfed and consumed me upon hearing such tragic news. Whether he dies younger or as an old man, no one will be here to calmly tell me, do this, then do this, and then do that. But the list I made will. 

Later… 

My goal has been to learn at least enough of the basics or beyond in as many languages as I can. But sometimes I wonder if I should perfect my best language instead, which would be Spanish since it’s so common here in the US. 

Then I say naw, I don’t think so. If you come to my country, then my language takes precedence over yours, like it or not. You wanna cry discrimination for that, fine. But I’m from here and if you come to my land then you should be willing to learn my language. Besides, I still know a great deal of the language. I was stuck in a jail cell in Arizona with someone who only spoke Spanish and we got by just fine, as did the housekeeper and I who cleaned our hotel room up in Oregon. I don’t use the language every single day, but I still read things online in Spanish from time to time and can understand the gist of what I read. Speaking and hearing another language is always harder than reading, but let’s just say that I don’t expect any problems in Mexico any more than I expected them in Puerto Rico. 

Anyway, we went out bike riding. It was chilly, slightly breezy, and very comfortable for a rigorous ride. I wanted to go even faster, but Tom always complains if I go too fast, LOL. 

I got an idea on how to make my own treadmill desk so I at least have the option of using the laptop there if I ever want to. Taking two of the old fan blades and stretching them across the rails, I can epoxy them together. Then I can run cable ties through the screw holes to secure it to the rails. Then again, this may look totally goofy in the end, so I don’t know.