It’s not even 9:00 and the gold truck’s already in back with its music thumping away. Just how many hours am I going to have to listen to this shit? How many more days? Well, I’m not going to listen to it. If I have to listen to music, it’ll be my own. In fact, I’ve got a CD playing now. Tom said it’s doing skirting.
It’s no joke how they say that when it rains, it pours. Last night, God just had to let a hose blow on the car, and poor Tom had to fix that, too. Like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with already!
Today is Dan and Steven’s unlucky day. Tom had taken them off his shit list to concentrate on those responsible for getting me thrown in jail, but guess what? They earned their way right back on it. It looks like, from what I vibed and what the guy he talked to this morning said, that this latest problem is also Dan-inflicted because the stupid shitfuck used too much plastic piping where he should’ve used metal. It could also be that the pump overworked itself since the fucking cock installed a pump for a 500’ well in a nearly 800’ well. Either way, ma will pay the costs, but that’s still one more thing we have to deal with. Meanwhile, laundry’s going to get backed up, dishes are going to get backed up, and trash is going to get backed up since we’d never want to burn without a working hose right there to wet any sparks.
I’m just sick of us having to be the ones to pick up after other people’s messes!!! God’s favorite pastime for us - suffering for years at the expense of others’ fuck-ups or vengefulness.
Anyway, some guy’s going to be here any minute, and I wonder - how incompetent is this one? How much money will we lose? How many years will we have to spend recovering from this cock?
Damn the Gods for making us pay for others’ shit! What? Do we not fuck up enough ourselves to be allowed to just pay for our own fuck-ups? Meanwhile, I’ll bet you don’t have anyone fucking over your precious freeloaders now, do you, God? No, they’re invincible, aren’t they? Nobody can rip them off or inflict untold amounts of stress, depression and anger on them, can they? Well, mark my words, God. Not even you can protect your beloved freeloaders from us in the end!
I wasn’t going to diet till after New Year’s, but I have to start now, or else I’ll be well into the 130s by the time New Year’s rolls around. I’m not like Tom or Mary who can eat all they want and stay the same, though they’re more like 30-50 pounds overweight. I’m 123 pounds now and would be a lot more than that come New Year’s, so I’ll have to start watching what I eat now, or else I won’t be able to fit into my clothes. We can’t afford new clothes now.
It makes me wonder, though - how much would I gain if I kept eating whatever whenever? I can only begin to guess! I’d say I’d probably get up to the 140s - 150s, but I’ll find out someday. I’m not going to try to control my weight for the rest of my life.
If we reactivate the well, and there are some things that could cause us to have to abandon it altogether, I hope we can get storage tanks in here soon enough. That way, when we suffer yet again on account of Dan’s greed and stupidity, we can have water till it’s fixed. Meanwhile, we got about 20 gallons of water at Mary’s yesterday, after we took showers there, for toilet-flushing.
Pepper was all over me, as usual, being playful and lovey-dovey. I’m thinking more and more that we will get Pepper eventually. Mary and Dave don’t hate him, but they don’t want such an attention-needy dog around. With me being home all the time, I wouldn’t mind him following me around. Mary mentioned how he’d love running up and down the house here. I could just tell by the way they were talking that they’d go for it once we got fences. The only problem is we can’t get fences if we’re constantly having to play well and car.
Ma gave me some puzzles, and Mary and Dave got me some more memory for my computer which was really nice of them when they went out to get some for their own computer. It doesn’t make things within my word processor run faster, but it helps with other things. Especially when I have a lot of stuff open.
We also got pizza and Mary sent us home with the leftovers.
It looks like George is back there now. I hope to hell he hasn’t heard about this black/Mexican shit I’ve been through, though I don’t think he ever knew our last names. It’s just that he’s in favor of freeloaders, and if he knew about this shit, there’s no saying how that’d influence his picking out tenants for that house. Although, it doesn’t really matter. If God wants me harassed all over again by the same old shit, I will be. In fact, I’m sure he’s going to make sure the noisiest people move in there, no matter what George does or doesn’t know. With this rental being the closest one to us, why would he let us have quiet white neighbors?
Later…
I totally, totally regret moving here! God, I never thought I’d be so sorry! I knew God was going to punish me for moving from the city and lifestyle he wanted me to have, but I had no idea it’d be this extreme. He wanted me to live with lots of people and noise for a reason. The well’s going to cost nearly $6,000 to fix! This guy, Walter, who I got good vibes from instantly, said he’s heard of Dan and his scams. He says we’re not the only ones that got fucked over by him, which I figured. It’s a common practice for drillers to come in, fuck people over in a certain area, then move on and do the same old shit elsewhere. I’m sure Steven, who was connected to Dan, is now long gone. Remember, he worked out of his house.
I was always nervous when it came to God’s punishing us for moving, but now I’m scared. Literally scared. This is beyond punishment. This is a curse. The question is, how much more cursed will we be the longer we stay here? How much more money will we lose? We should’ve just stayed in the city, kept a just-grin-and-bear-it attitude regarding the freeloaders, and then I wouldn’t have had to go to jail for 6 months, spend $40 a month for the freeloaders, thousands in hotels for contractors, and then thousands more a couple of years later. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about what other curses lie ahead for us after fixing the contractor’s fuck-ups, and ridding our lives of the freeloaders if we ever can.
Unless our struggling is because we’re going to be compensated later on in life with lots of money, which I doubt, something really wants us to struggle. It just doesn’t want us to get ahead. Every time we start to crawl out of a new hole someone’s dug for us, we get kicked down another one. Why bother trying to get ahead if we’re just going to be thrown back?
How do we get rid of the curse? How do we hang onto our money? How do we stop others from victimizing us and getting away with it? This isn’t a few hundred bucks and a few hours of freedom that was lost. Between the freeloaders and the contractors, you’re talking many, many thousands of dollars and half a year of freedom. What? Would it make God happy if I chained myself up in the closet every so often? Should we give half our money to charity? He works hard for our money and we should be able to keep it and spend it in normal, legit ways. Not be forced to give it to our perpetrators or greedy incompetent assholes. When is the payback for leaving the city and getting such a big, beautiful house ever going to be enough? When one of us is dead? It’s like - fuck living on a boat! Like God would let us? Besides, if we’ve gone through all this shit just to change houses, I’d hate to think of all we’d suffer on account of dumping civilization and getting off of land altogether. He would kill us for that! It’s like God put us here to serve others at our own expense. It makes me furious with God to know that these well drillers can get away with fucking over numerous innocent people out of thousands, while I go to jail for speaking my mind to people that provoked me. People that gave me a reason to react towards them. And nobody can try to convince me that things wouldn’t have been different had I been black, Mexican or male.
Later…
We’re waiting for Walter to return to take the pump out. Tom said he’s hoping they lied about how deep the well is because if it is a case of bad pipes, then we won’t need as much and it won’t cost as much.
We couldn’t get that lucky.
He also hopes the pump’s okay too, though we know the motor’s running.
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