Tom got me a couple of packs of fluorescent-colored paper. Each pack has 20 sheets of 10 colors. One pack will finish my journal printing project. If all goes well, I should have 5 sheets left over from the first pack.

I’m back from 112 pounds to 108 pounds, but there’d still be a big difference for the better if I could just get down right around 100 pounds, but I won’t count on it.

Yesterday, Tom trimmed the front hedges. That’s all he did. I’m telling you, we’re not gonna make it out of here in July or August at the slow rate he’s going. Sometimes I wonder if that’s what he wants. He seems to be obsessed with procrastinating, as well as with being different. Being a disorganized slob is one of his obsessions too, and I got really mad at this favorite pastime of his yesterday. Two Mexicans came to our door wanting to take the old car to Mexico and fix it up. They were gonna give us $50 to tow it, but the slob couldn’t find the title. The guys say they’ll return on Tuesday.

I’m sending a birthday card/letter to Becky. This is gonna sound cruel and selfish, I know, but mainly it’s to keep Tammy from calling. I’m sure that if I didn’t call or send Becky anything, Tammy would call bitching about it (like she’d ever have sent our kid anything if we had had one, right!). Who knows, though? She may call bitching about my only sending something and not calling. If she does, that’s her problem. She’s not gonna get the reaction she wants out of me, that’s for sure. We should be moved by Sarah’s birthday (I hope!). Then, a year from now, Tammy will hear from me one last time before I snip the strings for the final time and cut her loose. But as soon as we move, the bitch, the folks, the brother, and the pest will get their last word from me. Tammy will get a bullshit letter saying we had twins by way of in vitro, live in a 5-bedroom house on a 3.3-acre lot, and that I make/sell porcelain dolls. Half of this stuff may be true too, but just knowing how furious the so-called twins part of it will make her and the folks really cracks me up. Then, I shall get on with my life in peace.

It’s pretty funny how my interests have really changed throughout the time I’ve known Tom. Besides him, other people I know, the animals in general, reading, writing, singing, and listening to music, if you look at the different time frames, different words pop out at you as you skim through the pages. The common words in the beginning, are sex, pregnant, and baby. Then it changes to bitch, bass, and basketball. Lastly, to dolls, moving, and rats.

I don’t know if this would be easier said than done, but if I were to end up pregnant now that I don’t want a child (even though that’s impossible) I wouldn’t abort it, but it’d get no prenatal care, I’d stop my vitamins, eat really shitty, and pray to God to lose it for me.