Not at all looking forward to tomorrow’s dental surgery. I remind myself, as always, that anything is better than chemically induced anxiety, sprinkled with a bunch of wacky hormones. Anything. Damn, do I wish I could stand the anxiety (and I know it’s just a matter of time before it returns) so I could lose just 10 pounds. Just 10 pounds… that’s all I’d settle for at this point. But it’s just too awful of a feeling. It would be like trying to keep your head under water for 20 minutes or so. It’s just not going to happen.

I’m just about to cross the border of my 3.5-month no-period record. I would have to get to November without a period and to April without anxiety to really get any serious hope of being out of the woods as far as that goes.

My pit rash was much better until I shaved. So what am I supposed to do to keep it away for good, walk around with hairy pits for the rest of my life?

I was so full from yesterday’s meal at the IHOP that I didn’t eat for six hours, and when I did, it was just a small snack. I’m amazed that I woke up down 2/10 of a pound. I forgot to mention the gingerbread cocoa I had as well. They had pumpkin spice and gingerbread. I chose the gingerbread, and damn was it good! The mug it came in was huge too, almost like a soup bowl. It was topped with thick creamy whipped cream. One of the good things about not eating out regularly is that it makes it all the more special when we do. We just might return to the same place next time and get the same thing.

I’m not sure if I remembered to mention this or not, but a couple of mornings ago I took a walk over to the other side of the circle. The loud car wasn’t there but the quieter one was. If the house has been sold there are no signs saying that’s the case, so I really don’t know what’s going on. I’m sure that if the car doesn’t return, someone will get a motorcycle to make up for it, knowing my shit luck.

Since I’m going to be at the dentist for so long tomorrow, Tom’s going to read the book I last edited. After that’s published I’ll edit one more this month, then resume editing older stories in December. November will be to focus on NaNoWriMo.

We’re now 20 months away from having options as far as the earliest Tom could retire. It’s unlikely that he will at that time, though, because I don’t think we’d have enough money unless we wanted to live in a dumpy studio apartment back up and Klamath Falls. But it will still be nice to know we’ll have the choice 20 months from now!

After going on so many shopping sprees over the last five years, getting more than I need and just about everything I could ever want and getting that out of my system, I could easily stand to give up some things so he could retire early. If we’d remained broke it would’ve been harder because I would’ve missed out on so many opportunities. But now that I’ve had those opportunities, and now that the physical and emotional suffering I went through has made monetary hardships seem like nothing, I could easily give things up if I had to or wanted to.

But he’s still working and we’re still shopping. So… drain opener is on the way, along with glow-in-the-dark nail polish, an additional sticker for the kitchen, and a hanging crystal.

Looks like Maliheh never did regain control of her Yahoo email account because I just got spammed again and so did several of her contacts. I didn’t click the link because that’s a dangerous thing to do, but I’m sure it was either a virus, a phishing program, or a link to some kind of sex enhancer.

I’m a little surprised she hasn’t been able to contact Yahoo to get the account shut down if not back in her own hands. Just to piss her off, figuring it will get back to her somehow, I replied to her contacts, LOL. But yeah, unless she’s even more vindictive and heartless than I ever gave her credit for and it’s really some kind of an elaborate entrapment scheme, that account has been totally taken over. A few of her contact’s emails bounced. I’m not worried about it either way, but it definitely seems like she’s been hacked as opposed to any kind of game she’s playing.

On to Aly, the proudly owned submissive who just moved into an apartment building with her master and is just so pleased that the other tenants are in her age group. Yeah, Aly has never been into opposites. The more you have in common with her, the more she’ll like you. And of course the crazier you are and the more you’re willing to tell her what she wants to hear helps, too. If she was being truthful about her health conditions, and if I understood everything she told me, then according to my friend Kim, she’s looking at five years or less to live.

Why would she go from dating a woman to moving in with some guy as his sex slave, though, if her days were numbered? Maybe she’s in denial or she’s resolved to live her life as if she’s not dying and make the most of it and get whatever she can out of it before she dies.

I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for her with the way she’s treated me, but what a shitty hand to be dealt in life. First, you get breast cancer when you’re only in your 20s and you need a double mastectomy. Then you get this. I wonder if she would have treated me better had she not had these issues to deal with.

Later…

I saw Bob talking to a couple of guys who were under his house earlier. What kind of project am I in for next, and how much hammering and sawing will there be?

Chatted with Jon on Facebook and was stunned to learn he’s going to be 70 in a few months. Really thought Carolyn was my age and that he was in his late 50s, early 60s at the latest. He teased me by saying I was such a suck-up, but thanks anyway. I’m serious. They’re definitely older than I thought they were. No wonder they’re retired. When Carolyn told me they were retired I thought it was a little weird, but just figured they were doing really well and could afford to retire early. Carolyn thanked me very much for thinking she was my age, LOL.

In reading back on some of my ‘90s journals, I’m amazed at all the stupid things I did. Okay, I was still young, a bit naïve, and I still had some learning and growing up to do. But still… Making up some bullshit story for Marty about him falsely accusing me of prank calls just so I could have an excuse to lay into him and hope to purge the anger I’d harbored toward him for so long was kind of ridiculous. I should have confronted him face-to-face and been totally upfront and honest with him. I tried to in my teens but ended up feeling worse afterward because I lacked the communication skills necessary back then to find the words to express how I felt.

Had I been anything like I am now back then I would’ve kept it simple. Not in my teens but in my 20s. As in something like, “Threaten me again and it will be the last thing you ever do.” Period. As simple as that.

Really, who was God protecting back in the day by having me be so afraid to take a stand for myself? Those who threatened and screwed me over, or me? It’s unlikely the Martys of this world would have threatened me if I was like I am now. They wouldn’t mind seeing me go to jail for kicking their ass but they also wouldn’t want to go to the hospital either. Then again, many people underestimate others and overestimate themselves. Most men don’t think a woman can kick their ass. If there’s an afterlife, however childish and silly it may sound, I’d like to see both my uncles (and a few others) threaten me again. Oh yes, I would have loved to make some people just try to put their actions where their mouths were, but various circumstances prevented me from doing so. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it just because I was angry. It was never just about reflexively lashing out in the heat of an angry moment but also about getting a kick out of the shock I know they would have felt, and maybe sparing myself and others from their shit in the future because I would think they would think twice the next time around. But I was either too weak, too afraid, or there was some kind of hold on me. In Nancy’s case, my hands were really tied because she was the tougher one, and I would have lost my commissary and visitation either way. While others can get away with doing shit to me, I know damn well I would’ve been arrested had I shown any of these people what can happen when you threatened someone. That’s just my shit kind of luck.

I really hope I am never threatened again. I really do. One can only be forced by circumstances to turn the other cheek so many times before they explode. I don’t think I could stop myself from pummeling anyone who threatened me in the future no matter how much I wanted to. Even if it would be a total waste of time and not necessary if they were all talk and no action, I would be so fucking pissed as past memories flashed through my mind and I don’t think I could restrain myself. Let’s just hope I never have to find out. I really want to get along with people.

My God. Speech-to-text really makes it easy to ramble on and on, doesn’t it? What was intended to be just a few sentences is now several paragraphs.

Anyway, another stupid thing was the note to the people on the opposite corner of us in Phoenix with the yipping dog. Was I really that chickenshit that I couldn’t go straight to their door and confront them directly that I had to write up a note and sign it with a bogus name? I guess I was.

Oh, well. No sense in dwelling on these things, I suppose. What’s done is done and the past can never be changed. Only learned from.

I’m back on Dreamwidth. I would still prefer for most of the people I know not to find it, so I’m not sharing links and certain things like that. Another thing I like about it is that I can crosspost entries to LiveJournal.

He’s working a little OT and I’m soon going to unwind with my book. I’m going back to reading with my eyes as opposed to listening because Alexa sometimes has trouble syncing. This way I absorb the plot better and if I didn’t take in the last sentence or so due to being distracted or whatever, it’s easier to look back. I can also read when it’s noisy and when I’m having trouble sleeping but don’t want to get up and do anything.