Tom said the war was over. I don’t watch the news. Too depressing. So I asked him which war he was talking about and he said we were bombing some country I’d never heard of. I asked why the slut president felt that was necessary and he said just because. That’s what’s really scary. If you can bomb innocent people in other countries, why not in your own country? People are sick enough to let their friends and family be killed just so they can take down the whole country and more. And then of course there’s our wonderful God to fear and despise for letting this happen.

Yesterday, I saw a young fat girl move the Ranchero to let the blue pickup out, driven by the fat girl and the guy. A couple of hours later, the Ranchero left. No music.

It looks like we may have more Mexicans moving in next door. There’s a gold pickup I’ve never seen before, and then the blue one was here for a while, too. The van’s been in all day. The van didn’t take off till late afternoon yesterday, but for how many times, I don’t know. Anyway, I saw tons of kids and adults carrying kids’ toys into the house. See, this is the problem with Mexicans. They cause overcrowding due to the way they breed like rabbits. Take a house, any house, and you’ve got wall-to-wall Mexicans.

Some guy was asking Tom, as he pulled in today, what the scoop was with next door. I guess we’re not the only ones who aren’t happy about it being a rental, and even more so that it’s an overcrowded rental owned by the city. So, Tom’s gonna send a letter to the city using the address we’ve been using to let them know of the overcrowding in a couple of days. If they start being noisy, the letter will go in right away, to the city and to the mayor.

I decided the pack of freeloaders isn’t worth the ink and paper, so I’ve decided to print the 15 or so pages I have on them and mail that in a regular envelope. I’m not gonna mail them all I’ll write about them while we’re here and send it to them in a manila envelope like with the blacks.

If I said it before, I’ll say it again - thank God there’s no hoop over there! I still can’t believe how quiet they’ve been though, as far as the kids go, and as far as that one bass attack being all we’ve heard so far. I just hope we’re out of here by the time the weather starts cooling down!

The fucking freeloaders are overloading the dumpster. I did say, after all, that there’s a lot of trash next door. God! Why me? Huh?! Why is it always next to me?!

Tom got the paints today (the yellow for the cabinets is called yellow rose) and we’re gonna begin painting this weekend. Right now, he thinks we can be moved by early August. I hope he’s right! At least my October vibe has faded. Even September’s a little weak, so that’s good.

Later...

Damn, these fucking distractions! I’m trying to talk to my husband, but the fucking phone which rings non-stop, just won’t fucking quit! When am I gonna be paid back enough, God? When are we going to let the past be the past and move on, huh? How much more payback do I deserve? Maybe someday he’ll forgive me for my mistakes as well as for my forefathers.

Both pickups have left, but how many people are in that house right now and how many are living there for sure, is still unclear. I just know there are close to a dozen and that most of them aren’t supposed to be there.

I forgot to mention that Tom said Butterscotch lunged at him the other night. He just charged at him when he was walking by to let Shiny out. I believe it. He is a meany. The most aggressive of the rats.

I cleaned the rat’s cage today and put newspaper in place of sawdust. I want to see how well it absorbs, how messy it is, and how much they like it, although I tend to think they don’t give a damn one way or the other. I’m hoping this will work out, cuz I’m getting a little tired of their kicking sawdust outside the cage.

Also, I cleaned the bar walls of the cage. It took me nearly 3 hours to clean it rung by rung.

I just can’t wait to move! The only sad part of it is that when we do move into that bigger, nicer, more modern home with its beautiful desert landscape and its peace and quiet, there’ll be a price to pay for it. You think God’s gonna let me have it sweet and nice with no strings attached? Think again! That’s not the way God works with me. Every good thing he lets me have has a string or two attached. I don’t know what the payment’s gonna be, though. Could be something wrong with the house, something wrong with us, more problems at work for Tom. My guess is that he’ll have things within the house, among our stuff, break or not work right. It’d be just my luck to move and find that the dishwasher doesn’t work, but at least we’ll be out of here!

I mentioned to Tom certain things I saw happening when we moved, including that the sex would remain as it has been. Then he had the nerve to say he would go down on me but was hesitant cuz he doesn’t want me to pretend I’ve cum. What a lame excuse. Why does he always have to make up some bogus excuse, or pin the blame on me, instead of just coming out and admitting that he doesn’t want to? It’s plain and simple - he doesn’t want to. He can just say so. Not make excuses.

The nerve of him, though, cuz wasn’t it him that was the pretender for a while there? Wasn’t it him that claimed to be cumming most of the time for many months till I spilled the beans on him and let him know I knew better? I told him how it was quite ironic how things changed as soon as I spilled the beans on him. When I pointed this out to him, though, he said that it comes and goes in spurts. Yeah, right. Uh-huh. Tom, you’re great at just about everything, but you’re a lousy liar. I mean how fucking convenient to say that, huh? He says the reason he hasn’t been cumming lately is cuz he’s had problems, be it colds, his back, etc. But he always has a problem. Ever since I knew him, there was a problem. Some are legit, but my gut instinct tells me that most of them were just excuses.

I hope he isn’t forgetting the important thing and that’s that he can never cum again if that’s what he wants, as long as he’s happy, doesn’t lie, or play games. I appreciate the fact that he hasn’t put me through the sexual head games he used to, like the I-forgot-how-to-screw game he used to play with me when he wouldn’t go inside.

Oh, did I tell you yet how he’s changed from guessing we’ll have a child to that being a logical thing to happen? Yeah, he feels a kid is logical cuz of how our lives are going. That’s what he said in the past several times. Well, he can stay in denial all he wants and believe what he wants, but I know two things. That it can’t happen no matter how our lives are going, and that it’s still not what I want.

Later...

The van’s made a couple of its multi-trips out.

Again, the little animals are out with the sunset. It amazes me that I can see them, but I can’t hear them.

Tom and I were talking about how mish-mashed this house is. Some of the baseboards are wood, some are vinyl. Some of the plugs/outlets are wood, some are plastic. They used two different types of wood to do the kitchen cabinets and two different shades of yellow. A darker shade for the upper cabinets and a lighter for the bottom. Then there’s the shade of yellow that’s in the tiles, and the contact paper that’s white with yellow wicker-like stripes that’s on a few of the cabinet doors. Of course, there’s also that blue/green paint I painted on, too. Then you have the disgustingly ugly floor colors of gold, dark orange, and brown.

Tom’s mom sent us an anniversary card with a $25 check.