Wednesday, January 27, 1999

I had that T-bone and was surprised to wake up at 109 pounds and not 111-112 pounds.

Tom overslept, so he won’t have time to call about Maria till he gets home.

Two black guys in a cranberry-colored car came over next door yesterday while Bill was there, but was only here for a few minutes. I’ve recently seen these black guys in this car visit quickly. They haven’t played music, but they make sure to announce their arrival by door slams and loud talking.

Lately, I’ve been bored. Yeah, believe it or not, my usual hobbies just aren’t enough lately. I need some fun, new project, but what? Can’t think of any.

Later...

It’s looking like it may rain out there, but the barometer doesn’t say so. Sometimes I wonder if the thing’s broken.

Yesterday, I shooed three kids out of our front yard by an old tree stump we have. They may have just stopped to innocently chat there, but I couldn’t know this for sure, so I opened the door and asked what they were doing. Without a word, they moved on. Why do kids today have to do their thing in other people’s yards?

Later...

The renters just gave me a ten-minute concert, but it was nothing compared to what I’d get from the freeloaders. Some dude is apparently working on his car out front. They got the front door open too, and at first I couldn’t be sure if the music was coming from the car or from inside the house, but anyway, the doors of the car were open and the guy was doing something in the hood. He’s hosing it down now. He killed the music right before he went to hose it off.

A young woman just came out to join him. They’re white and very young. Early 20s. Maybe even 18 or 19. What’s weird, though, is don’t they ever work? Every day there’s a vehicle in that driveway. In fact, four of the houses across the street always have a car or two in their driveway. Does anyone on this street work during the day? Anyway, hopefully, any music will be rare and as soft as that was. It was soft and not all bass. I could drown out its beat very easily with a soft fan.

Tom called about Maria. They say she’s on her way and that if she doesn’t come by Friday to call them and they’ll put a trace on her.

Tom still has a sore throat. I wonder why. That’s an awfully long sore throat.

How many people are living over there? The red car’s gone, but the woman and the dude are still there bopping around the white car they’ve been working on.

Andy just left me a message telling me how happy he is in Phoenix and that this is his home, etc. Yeah, I know. And as I told him in my reply, he’s not going back east. He knows it, I know it, so, so be it.

Please, Maria, be here today! The only problem with that is that I don’t sense her. I’m usually pretty good at sensing when packages are coming. Every psychic has their hot spots. Mail is one of them for me.

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