Got my Wonderlust perfume sample in the mail. It smells lovely and similar to the last one. Very feminine and not something I could imagine a less girly girl/woman caring for.

I’m in a much better mood than I was yesterday. I also stayed up long enough to call my doctor’s nurse. The one with the funny accent I can’t place (Eastern Europe?) that almost sounds like she’s deliberately trying to sound goofy when she says my name. She was easy enough to understand but even so, I really hope to deal with more American medical staff at the new place. Even though it’s been a million years since I left my home state of Massachusetts, of all the doctors I had, not one of them wasn’t from there except for one Filipino woman. Still wish I could take my dentist, ENT, and very Ecuadorian-sounding PCP with me so I wouldn’t have to start all over again, but it won’t kill me to do so.

I guessed wrong on what question the nurse wanted to ask me. They really need to get better organized, too! It should not only be in my records that I prefer the portal to the phone but they also should know that there’s no cause for alarm over my slightly elevated white blood cell count because they’ve called asking me about it before, and as I told them, I’ve had this for as long as I can remember. It’s simply the way I am.

The doctor later responded to the message that I left Wednesday evening saying she hopes I’m doing well, it’s difficult for staff to know who wants to be contacted by the portal or by phone and not all patients are very good like me with communicating through the portal (they’d know if they made notes of these things). She just wanted to know how I was feeling and if I needed an earlier appointment but if I’m feeling well and not having any signs of an infection, please keep my appointment.

What made me laugh was the part where she said that an elevation of white blood cells can be related to multiple things, usually benign, but since it’s very mild, please don’t Google because they will tell me worse.

LOL, it’s a little late for that, Doc.

Still not sure I want to take statins. Even if I didn’t have any side effects, I don’t know that I want them to help me live longer. With a husband who’s 8 years older, I just don’t want to live to the ripe old age of 90 or something like that. I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself on my own and even if I could, I don’t want to spend my last 10-20 years a lonely widow. What the hell would I do with myself all that time? Get a dildo and pretend I’m as horny as a 20-year-old?

Then it was off to beading disasters. I made myself a lovely little rainbow bracelet just to find that I didn’t leave enough slack to tie it off. So I restrung the beads on a longer piece of stretchy elastic. Then I used one of the doll’s wrists for leverage to tie it off and what should happen but that the fucking thing slipped out of my fingers and the beads spilled all over the place. So I was like, fuck it. I’m done with beading. No more trying new hobbies because it’s a waste of money. I didn’t really enjoy painting and now I’m too blind and clumsy to string a few fucking beads. Today, however, I’ve had rainbow success!

Then I got to end my day with shitty dreams even though I slept better overall. We were living in a huge house with other homeless people. I went to collect the mail just outside the door when he was out job hunting and read the envelopes to make sure they were to us since we shared the mailbox with others.

Tom was struggling to find a job. I said something about being doomed if we ran out of money and he said, “Well, if I can’t find a job we’re done.”

I knew that “done” meant we would have to kill ourselves because it would be quicker and less painful than slowly dying on the streets. I realized that the thought didn’t scare me as much as it did when it was a real possibility when we first came to the state. “At least we would get to go together,” I told him almost happily.

Then I had a weird dream that I met Kim. The one in Connecticut. But instead of being of average height and huge, she was quite tall and as skinny as a rail. We hugged and began talking and I thought she sounded and acted remarkably normal.