Got up at 9:30 PM, about two hours before I’d have liked to, and my day has not been off to a great start. If there’s one area in psychism I’m just about 100% accurate with, it’s sensing the spiders. The moment I got up and stepped out of the bedroom, I had that all-too-familiar sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, telling me a nocturnal nightmare awaited me somewhere within this 2,100-square-foot house. I figured, why shouldn’t there be? I’m alone, after all.

I checked my bath. Nothing. I checked the kitchen, another favorite place for the damn things to hang out. Nothing. That left one more hot spot, though I wasn’t awake enough yet to think about it. Instead, I had my coffee, fed the animals, fired up my PC – the usual things I do upon waking up.

An hour later it was shower time. I stepped into the stall in the small bath, looked up at the ceiling, and there it was, my nighttime terrorist. I flew out of the shower stall and ran for the Raid. I sprayed at it, but it was useless. It was too high up and I was too short. Noticing the thing was barely a foot from being over the shower stall, I decided to grab the broom and try my best to swat it into the shower and I did, only I couldn’t see it! I beat the broom hoping it was just hung up on it, reached in and turned on the hot water. Still no spider. Even if it was curled up, I knew I should see something that big. Then I spotted it on the sunken ledge by his shampoo, stepped in, yanked the shower massage off the hook and scalded it down the drain.

I am so sick of these terrifying creatures! It isn’t just that they’re so big in diameter that scares the shit out of me, it’s their thickness as well. Assuming that they are coming up through the drains, I’m now going to get us both in the habit of keeping all the drains plugged when we’re not using them, except for the kitchen and washer. I’ve got upside-down saucers blocking the showers and stoppers plugging up the bathroom sinks and tub.

I just hope to hell they’re not coming up through the vents. I wish Tom could get up on the roof and put screens over the drainpipes and under or over the vents! Better yet, I wish he could just shove the whole house inside a giant Ziploc bag!

I’ve seen bigger than this one which was a little over an inch in diameter, but its fat body and legs were enough to make my heart jump so fast that if it could move, it would have been all the way back in Phoenix by the time I got the thing down the drain. And of course, now I’m all willied out. I have the creeps for the remainder of the day after spotting one of these things. I see them everywhere. On the walls, on the ceilings, in the cabinets, on the dolls, in the fridge, in the microwave.

I swear I will never have under-the-house ductwork again! If we don’t get rich off this place by the time he’s 55, then I just may very well be ready to go to a retirement community and listen to granny’s yipping poodle to the left, and grandpa’s screaming grandkids to the right. Better that than these terrifying creatures. Hell, I’d rather the old welfare bum pull up alongside the house with its bass thumping wildly, cuz then all I’d have to do is go out and break its neck like I should’ve nearly 7 years ago.

To make matters worse, my calves are on fire today after yesterday’s 5-song jogging spree (this tells me the pedals weren’t working my calves as hard as I thought they were) and all while I couldn’t find the thing, I’m jogging for fear of it taking me by surprise and running over my foot. Now my calves will be sore for a year!

We’re going to report first thing, then hit Walmart and Office Max. The cylinder head came yesterday after I went to bed (I never heard a thing, although he could’ve flown outside before the driver got a chance to knock), so Tom needs to get oil and other things.

My story’s going well, though I don’t know how far I’ll take it. I’m just writing whatever I feel like writing like Mary does. I started off with anonymous narration, but that was too hard cuz of the years of doing journals. I just couldn’t break the I, me, we, us, our habit, so I’m doing it in the first person.

Later…

Poor Tom. He got in at 4:30, and thanks to the blacks, he can only sleep till 7:15 (we’re leaving at 7:30). Someday. Someday the blacks won’t own us and dictate when we sleep, where we go, etc. I’m going to be pretty beat myself when we get in, thanks to them, as I’ll have been up for quite a while by then.

I toyed with the idea of telling the cheeks to tell his little friends at the courthouse that if I hear so much as one more word pertaining to this shit after 10/30, I’ll file the biggest lawsuit imaginable, hoping it would cause the arrogant corruptos to rise to the bait so I could catch them in their own fuck-ups now that I know the laws, and end up really rich. However, I’d really rather not play any more games after 10/30 with this state unless they force me to. I need to get on with my life, even if that means getting on to new problems as well. Besides, like most people, I don’t threaten, I just do. Anyone with half a brain knows that 90% of those who make threats of whatever kind are just blowing off steam. Those with true intentions almost always act without warning. I don’t need to make threats or give this state an ultimatum. Instead, I’ll let the ball be in their “court.” If they mean it this time about dropping it on 10/30, so will I. If not, I’ll either fight back the right way this time and win, or I’ll run and not give them the time of day.

I asked Tom, and he said going up on the roof, screening off and clamping the drainpipes should be no problem. It’ll be his first time up there. Better for this than to replace an old roof!

Not that I’d change my ways if they could, but I sometimes wonder if the renters can hear my music blasting at night. They gotta have single-paned windows in that old junker they live in. If they can hear it, they’re not reacting like most Arizonans would. See, in the East, you complain about your neighbor’s loud music. Here, you just turn yours up louder.

I got a letter from Mary with a draft she said to try not to have a hernia over (I haven’t gone over it yet) and let me know she’d pass any messages I may have for Teddy Bear to this DO (she doesn’t think I know her) to give to her. I told her thanks, but no thanks. If I sent in my letter for her to give Johnson, she may not do so. I want to send the letter directly to her so I can know for sure she gets it. As I asked Mary, though, how’s this DO in contact so often with Johnson if they’re working in different jails? Are they friends? Lovers? What?

I started getting cold feet about the letter idea, and told myself, don’t send this letter. Complaining is what got you in so much trouble in the first place, and this was complaining about someone who knew a pig. Now you want to take your complaint directly to a pig? You could be setting yourself up for your next long-term problem!

Now I’m not sure what to do. Do I take my chances with an officer already known to do what I’ll be talking about in my letter and who’s the same color, or do I continue to let it go?

They can’t transfer my prints; that much I do know. She couldn’t set me up by lifting my prints off the letter, smashing a window in her place, moving or copying my prints to the window casing, and then claiming I broke in.

And what if I get her fired? A part of me still worries about that. I don’t want to trash her life for doing what she did to me, not that she couldn’t get work elsewhere, even if she might not like it as much or get as much money. She broke my heart, not every bone in my body. On the other hand, I know better. County and government workers and very hard to get fired. She may be questioned, but that’s about as far as it’ll go, and no, I can’t imagine her coming and shooting me for it. Of course, I also couldn’t imagine her being a lying flirt, either.

Gosh, I just don’t know what to do! I shouldn’t worry about it right now, though. I mean, I’ve got 8 months to decide. All I know is that if I do anything, I want myself off probation and Mary out of that jail. She may be a heartbreaking flirt, but she’s not stupid. She’s going to know I got my info from Mary, and although she may never return to Estrella, I want Mary out of there first. Just one trip to Madison for a court appearance or hearing with Johnson on duty – well – you just never know what could happen to an Ad-Seg girl all alone, so I have to think of protecting Mary and not just myself.

I began my little story, and no, Teddy Bear isn’t my costar! I decided to use Kate. I’ve got about 7 pages done. I’m doing it by dates instead of chapters. Mary’s writing style has greatly inspired me to become a better writer. Now just let my punctuation keep on inspiring her and we’ll be even, I told her! To hell with worrying about spelling. The PC fixes that. Although its subject matter may be rather odd, I’d say it’s pretty well-written. As I said, Mary helped with that by showing me other writing styles.

Later…

Still no shipment confirmation, but the day isn’t over yet. Hopefully, they’ll still be shipped today, but I won’t count on it.

Scot wasn’t in today. Instead, I was seen by the same lady who got the honor of watching me pee. She seemed so nice. I’ll bet most of them are friendlier than Scot. Scot’s a pretty serious dude, though he’s improved with time. Maybe that’s cuz we’ve known each other for so long now.

When this lady asked if I was working and I told her I was a homemaker, she said, “Oh, so you do work,” I wanted to hug her. She agrees that too many people think all we do is sit on our asses and do nothing.

After reporting we went to Walmart where we got screens and pipe clamps for the drainpipes, among other truck-related items.

While he was gathering up this stuff, I did some shopping of my own. I bought shoes for Chris, but the damn things are too small. It figures, too. See, there are infant, toddler and children’s shoes, and I got infant-size when I should’ve gotten toddler. Makes me all the gladder we don’t have kids! What a bitch shopping for them would’ve been, and by the time you do figure it out, they’ve outgrown whatever it is you got them. Anyway, they were only $2, and I’m sure I’ll have some doll at some point that can wear them. They’re pink and black slightly stretchy sneakers. They have no ties or clasps of any kind. The feet just slip right into them.

While they had a surprisingly lousy selection of slippers and no sundresses, they sure had a lot of other summery clothes. They had some awesome shiny swimsuits too, but I’ll wait till we get the inflatable pool.

Instead, I got new underwear which I’ve been needing for quite a while. From the clearance section, I got a matching black bra and panty set with round colorful shiny sequin-like things on them, and then I got a shiny green pair of panties. Then I grabbed a 5-pack of string bikinis in white, yellow, blue, pink and purple, so I’ll be set in the panty department for a while.

At Office Max, they didn’t have any keyboards with built-in mice which we want for the TV. We also want to build a cabinet to put the keyboard, computer and monitor in.

I got a new mouse for my computer cuz the one I’ve been using really sucks. It has lousy control, and its side-clicker, which I have set to double-click, is fucked up. It either only clicks once or sometimes it clicks too much. This mouse has scrolling wheels and programmable buttons so I can choose what command I want to use them for. It’s a nice one and fits in my hand perfectly. It’s an optical mouse that uses no roller ball for better control. That’s why the thing was $50. Or was it $60? Either way, it was worth the money. I have very long fingers, but tiny hands, so it’s not always easy to find a mouse that feels comfortable in my hand. The mouse I use for my MP3 station is actually a child’s mouse.

We also looked at digital and old-fashioned little handheld recorders. After deciding that I have enough complicated modern technology to learn these days, I figured I’d settle for the old-fashioned kind. I didn’t get one today because we can get them cheaper elsewhere. The kind with microcassettes would suit my needs just fine anyway. All I need is a play, rewind, fast-forward, record, and stop button, as I told Tom. I only want it for leaving notes for journals, letters, or stories when my computer is turned off. I don’t need anything that will play select notes, since I plan to type in all the notes I speak in, the next time my computer’s on, then rewind the tape and start over.

“But this one will let you talk for 105 minutes for $10 more,” Tom said as we were browsing through them, and I was like, “How many notes can I possibly have, Tom? I’m not going to get into a whole conversation with myself. It’s just to grab it off the nightstand as I’m falling asleep and happen to remember something, then say something like "Remember to tell Mary to ditch Teddy Bear’s letter so I can play it back when I wake up and fire up my PC.”

Anyway, a simple one is all I need. Besides, the simpler things we buy, the simpler it’ll be to fix when they break. Getting an intricately designed pair of pedals makes for quite a nightmare to fix. I still don’t believe he’s going to be able to fix them, but that’s ok, jogging won’t kill me. It might even be better for me and give me more muscle and endurance as long as I don’t put too much of a bounce in it. I’m not going to drag my feet, but I’m not going to lift them all that high either. Not more than 2-3 inches. The most important thing anyway is elevating my heartbeat for a while to help keep my weight stable, even if I can never lose anymore.

After we got in and Tom crashed, the barking began. Knowing it was about the pipes, I ran out front and shooed off next door’s beast. Tom’s sleep was more important than any poor loser with sensitive eggshell-like feelings, though if anyone saw me run the damn thing off, I wouldn’t know it. I would still prefer it if I wasn’t seen, knowing how people are out here, cuz once we got the fence, they’d probably take a wire-cutter, snip an opening and shove their dogs through it just to get at me! Westerners can be so sensitive and so spiteful.

I know now why there were so few strays in Phoenix as opposed to back east. It was because of the strict laws out here. Also, most dogs out here aren’t cooped up in houses all day and night. They’re left to live outdoors so they can bother their neighbors. Here in Maricopa, I wonder – does anyone care? Does anyone give a damn about their dogs? Would they care if a snake bites them when they’re active? Would they care if someone shot them? Somehow I doubt they’d even notice they were missing, and if they did they’d have a new dog to replace it the next day, which, of course, would never enter the house.

Anyway, once we enter March I’ll be able to vibe whether or not the fences will be here that month, even if they’re not completely up, just like I did when it turned February. I had no fence vibes at all. I had fence vibes for the first week of March, but they’re fading. It’s like something wants to torture me with other people’s dogs!