Just did a bit of housecleaning. I really do love this house even though it’s a little old and there’s more noise than I’d like in the daytime. The layout is ideal, though we’d gladly take an extra bedroom.

Even the colder weather isn’t always so bad because when I’m hot flashing I can step outside momentarily to cool off. Couldn’t do that in Florida, but I’m hoping that if we really do move there someday I’ll be long over that by the time it happens.

We’ve got another warm spell on the way. It’s going to be in the 80s all week and by the late afternoon, we could need the AC for a few hours.

After giving the rats the bones from my pork chop dinner I went out walking. This time I headed toward the back. I wore a T-shirt and it was 68°. I started off chilly and then I was glad I didn’t wear long sleeves. 10 minutes into a workout and you’re really feeling the heat. So by the time I hit the back of the park, I was plenty warmed up.

They painted the speed bumps so now they’re white instead of yellow.

Maybe this is a bit judgy of me, but how can so many abusive mothers say they “did their best?” Why not just come out and admit that you fucked up? If you’d done your best you wouldn’t have slapped your kids around. You wouldn’t have called them names. You wouldn’t have made them feel like worthless pieces of shit. You wouldn’t have made them afraid to go home after school. Maybe what you really did your best at was making piss-poor excuses for your behavior.

Been watching season two of Slasher and trying not to think of my much lower TSH numbers and the fact that if I were to have pocket flares now, I’d really be feeling miserable.

I’m back to backing up stuff on Dreamwidth which is automatically cross-posting to LiveJournal.

I’ve been feeling and sleeping so well lately that I’m not remembering much of my dreams. Something about being on vacation and dolls? Then there was something about some black people (the ones who screwed me in Arizona?) getting a dog that I had wanted. I was bitching about it as I was walking by their place with Tom and he got paranoid, telling me to lower my voice so I didn’t get beat up. I just laughed. Unless a whole group of them came at me, I told him, I wasn’t the least bit scared.