I would be so stressed out right now if I had to report tomorrow. You don’t know the relief of knowing that I don’t really have to! My schedule’s all wrong for it. I’d have the pressure on me to decide if it’d be best to push myself to stay up late enough to report in the morning, or if I wanted to short my sleep and do it in the afternoon.

Of course, it’s no coincidence that my allergies have gotten worse since being freed from the freeloaders.

I still can’t believe it all happened and God let it. He let it all happen when nothing I did or was accused of justified a microscopic fraction of the sentence I got.

I got a letter and a quick draft from Mary. Damn, her mother’s warped! She tried to get Mary to have a miscarriage in the hospital in light of what the baby’s father was all about, and this much I can understand, but when Mary fell and she lied to the nurses who came running in, saying that it was Mary who insisted upon getting up and about when she wasn’t supposed to except to use the bathroom, I was like, what a sicko! And she protected the bitch, too. She protects the bitch like God protects those who do me wrong, and this is why I seriously believe she enjoys the abuse. This bitch so deserves to be disowned! We all gotta draw the line somewhere, but Mary simply has no lines anywhere.

She says the girls there won’t leave her alone. Yes, I can just imagine how the poor girl gets hounded for attention since so many inmates can’t seem to entertain themselves, and how much begging she must have to put up with. Just 12 hours in Florence and one woman wanted me to contact her sister to let her know she was in custody, while another wanted to give me her new car for bonding her out.

Although it might take a century or two (you know how long it takes to write a book), it looks like I’ll be finishing this book after all since I now have a damn good idea of where I’m heading with it. In fact, I think I just may try to either publish the thing myself (since trying to get a publisher isn’t so easy, especially with the kind of story I’m writing) or see if I can find a site online where people post their stories for others to read and give any feedback they might want to give. I don’t know if such a site exists, but it seems reasonable that one should. I don’t expect to have any luck with it or make any money off of it, but can it kill me to try?

Because I’ve decided to change it from just a love story to a love story that slowly evolves into a story of obsession and danger, I decided that Spring Romance is no longer an appropriate title for it. It is now titled Love in Disguise. I’ve also gone and changed any known names like Estrella Jail and Kate Jackson. I kept the Kate, but changed the Jackson to guess what? Johnson, ha, ha, ha!

When you think about it, it’ll be very much like Mary’s real-life story, only there won’t be any kids involved and the story will be about violence in gay relationships versus straight ones. I’d also like to kind of use part of her story that I found, in my opinion, to be particularly terrifying – the part where Justin kicked the bathroom door down that she was locked in behind. That was really scary to read that I can’t imagine actually having to experience it for real!

After Kate terrorizes me for a while, I’ll be rescued by an Indian woman. Gay, of course.

For what Mary will find the best news of all – I found her murdering, criminalistic soul mate. Well, Tom did. She provided more information to help find him but still won’t tell me why he was convicted of second-degree murder. I guess she never will, but it’s okay. She doesn’t have to tell me anything she doesn’t want to tell me.

Anyway, we got a computer print-out of the address he’s at in northern Florida and other general info, including a listing of his many tattoos and where they are on his body. He’s listed as white and looks white, but has a Hispanic name. I just hope she gets what I’m sending as I don’t know what their rules are as far as receiving computer info, but if worse comes to worst, they’ll return it and I’ll resend it in letter format.

I called her aunt, too. I got her machine and left the info on it, just in case she happens to talk to Mary before she gets my mail.

The Humane Society sent another pad and a small sheet of address labels, but still no cards. This time I got cats and dogs versus wolves.

I found an ugly 2”, brown centipede or millipede of some kind on the bathroom floor. I don’t like this – finding bugs in here right after we bombed.

The current holdup on the truck is his having trouble getting the wiring to the taillights straightened out, and one of his people at work being on vacation. They always, always have something going on with them. If they’re not on vacation, they’re calling out with various excuses, leaving poor Tom to have to work 6 days a week and us to have less time together to do the things we want to do. He mentioned me “taking care of him sometime soon,” but I just ignore this talk because I know he doesn’t lust for me any more than I lust for him (but I sure do lust for the younger Kate Jackson! Oh, how I’d love to get it on with her!).

Meanwhile, Tom’s either one of two things. He’s either been getting it on with someone else on the side, though I don’t know how he could manage to find the time to do so, or he is what he’s always appeared to be since the day we met; a guy with a barely existent appetite.

I still don’t think we’ll resort to having Dave haul the stuff for us and have to have Mary come out here too, cuz she can’t let Dave go anywhere alone. It’s like she doesn’t trust him or something. Every time we’d order pizza when I’d visit, both of them had to go get it and I’d be wondering why it took two people to go get pizza. Maybe he’s a slut or something and she feels the need to keep an eye on him. He does strike me as the type to spread himself around.

I had an awesome idea, but don’t know how I’d go about putting this idea into action. I thought it’d be so cool to make the bedroom ceiling look like it’s aglow with stars when it’s dark in there. It’d be so cool to find a glow-in-the-dark marker or something that’s invisible in the daylight or when the lights are on at night.