No more mass publications! Every time I post journal entries to multiple sites, I later find typos, grammatical errors, or remember things I forgot to add and have to go around to all the entries to make corrections. Therefore, I’m going to update one blog, and then every few days or so, I’ll copy and share elsewhere.

One of the things I forgot to say is that a couple of days ago, they did remove my comment on the obit. I hope the termite notices and will be anything but pleased, LOL. I thought of slowly, one by one, requesting the seven remaining comments to be removed but then said nah. Too risky. Even if nothing could be proven, I don’t want the pigs showing up at our door, suspicious.

Jim accepted my friend request and said they have 30 days to sell their house or they’ll lose the one they want and will stay here. He said he felt like he was back in New York yesterday. Yeah, and I kind of felt like I was in NorCal! It’s just a shame that while Jesse’s mutts spoiled the peace of Auburn, the planes are spoiling an otherwise quiet place here. I’ll still take the planes over the mutts, though.

I think it’s pretty pathetic that it takes hours to get through to a doctor’s office these days. It’s all about them being cheap and cutting back on help. Money always means more to them than the patients. I requested an appointment online and hopefully they’ll call back and preferably not while I’m on the toilet. I ended up getting sick twice yesterday and read that IBS can cause insomnia as well as for a person to wake up a lot. I had upper right stomach cramps when I got up but that one went away for the most part, once I got up and moving. Damn, is my stomach one noisy place, though! Always gurgling and growling.

Unlike other GI issues, IBS doesn’t cause weight loss. Leave it to me to get one that doesn’t cause that but then again, I don’t want to lose weight and temp my medication into being a problem again. I don’t know for sure if it is IBS, but I’d say it’s very likely. I don’t think I’ll need my gallbladder removed. I always knew that if I ever beat the anxiety, it would be replaced with a new problem. But have I really beaten it? It’s still hard to believe I have because every time I thought I did, I didn’t. So I would say, no, I haven’t beaten it. Then why do I already have a new problem? Even if I have beaten it, it’s barely been a month.

Last night’s nightmare was discovering a HUGE tarantula in a house I didn’t recognize and bursting into the bedroom where he was sound asleep and snoring like a ship horn. I kept shouting, tapping and shaking him and tugging on his arm but he just wouldn’t wake up and kept snoring away.

I’m tired today because I was up for so long and had to get up in the middle of my sleep to pee. At least I’m not crying over my lost house (or trying not to). I still don’t know what it is with that house. So many bittersweet memories yet I’m still obsessed with the place. Don’t miss it for many reasons, but then I do. It’s weird. I cried for the loss of the place yet I know it would be horrible for us to be back there. Besides, and as I said before, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. If they can do what they’ve done to the outside of the place, I can imagine the hellhole inside of it. Yet I want to sit and watch the beautiful sunrise from the living room window and distant lights twinkling at night while Little Buddy, Blondie, and Tinkerbell run around, even though Tinkerbell never lived there.

Moving was the right thing to do. Even if we had the money to keep going, it was safer for us to move. If we hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten to experience living in different places and we never would have had the two wonderful years we had with Tinkerbell.

I just checked and found that it sold in 2011. They really trashed the place. The skirting was all fucked up outside and the walls were fucked up inside. Tons of shit strewn about spoiling the natural beauty outside. Still had the original carpet, though.

The perfect ending to my honker story, which I’ve decided to title You’re Not Welcome Here, came to mind. In Florida, the curse is on them. Once they get back to Canada, I’ll have everything go just fine for a while. But then he becomes cursed. He’ll be fucking his wife nonstop who will get sore and fed up. Then she finally talks him into making an appointment to get help for the mysterious and outrageous appetite he acquired all of a sudden.

So he puts a full tank of gas in the truck and off they go. Soon Kari realizes they passed the doctor’s office, but when she mentions it to him, he just gives her a maniacal grin and drives on. Kari can’t escape because the door is locked and she can’t get it open. They drive until they run out of gas. The story will end with him fucking her nonstop. I’m just going to spell their names as Darren and Carrie because that’s what speech-to-text likes best.