Sunday, April 25, 1999

No one moved in yesterday, and there were signs saying that no one would move in this weekend that we didn’t see or think of right away. The grass isn’t mowed, the recycle bin’s out, and they still haven’t picked up the shit I threw in the backyard I couldn’t believe it!

The only activity that I know of that went on over there yesterday, was this car that pulled deep into the carport. A fat lady and a little boy got out of the car and they went straight to the back. The first thing I thought was that the pregnant kid’s mother came over with one of the kid’s kids, and they were getting the dog set up in back, but nope. They were only here a few minutes, too. Maybe they went to get something I threw over.

Then Tom went up on the roof to read some numbers off the side of the cooler, and to spy, and that’s when I totally regretted throwing things over there! Mr. Paranoid saw the shit over there and lectured me for a good hour or so on why I shouldn’t do things like that and why it’s important that he be paranoid and cautious in life. I’m very very sorry to have upset him, and now I’ll be just as paranoid and cautious just so I can spare him from having to get all worried again. I’ll never again do anything remotely like that.

Also, there’s no way I’m gonna tell him about the hoop when we move. He’d be a basket case of nerves over it and he doesn’t need it if I can spare him from it. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Not even after ten years will I tell him about the hoop, cuz even then he’ll probably worry that something bad may come of it.

Meanwhile, I’m going to finish enjoying this weekend with next door empty. It’s to be our last weekend here with it empty.

Later...

Tom fixed the stereo in seconds yesterday. All that was keeping it from playing CDs was a loose wire.

I went around and counted cracked outlets and light switches for him so he can pick up new ones to replace them when he gets other things we need. It’s gonna cost $500 to put the fence around the pool! But it’s the law.

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