The well work ended up costing $520. I am so, so mad at God. Utterly furious! How could he let this happen to us? Now’s not the time to be picking on us. Not with his shit job. I can’t stand this regular destruction of our property! I’m so fed up with the fucking setbacks! If he can’t let us get ahead in life, can’t he at least quit kicking us back down? And to let us be kicked down like that at this time is really mean, hateful and compassionless.

Tom said that despite how bad it is being cursed, and he’s always believed there was a curse on him just like I’ve always believed there was one on me, there is some consolation in it. The consolation is knowing he’s not going to be killed in a car wreck or get cancer and die, because what would be the point of killing someone you can’t curse? Something definitely wanted us to live to suffer, though we may not suffer nearly as much as we used to, especially me. I mean sure, paying $520 when we’re broke may be bad enough, but living with Dureen and Art O. was a much greater curse. So was living in the Brattleboro Retreat, Valleyhead, the NHA and Estrella Jail, to say nothing of the nearly 4 years we had to spend living next to the human parasites in Phoenix.

I can relate to what he’s saying, in a sense. There have been times when Tom would be a little late getting home and I’d start getting nervous, reminding myself of how much God hates me and that he’s both capable and cruel enough to take one’s loved ones from them in a heartbeat. Then I think to myself, yes, he hates me. With a passion, too! However, he doesn’t quite hate me that much. Then I see Tom’s car pull in and I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

While we both believe in curses as much as we believe in blessings and the supernatural, we disagree on the cause. Tom thinks he’s cursed just because, but I believe there’s a reason for everything. I don’t know what to think as to why we could be so cursed. Some say we’re being punished for the sins of our forefathers which would be so unfair, though nothing in life is fair anyway. Others say there is such a thing as reincarnation and would suggest that we weren’t very nice people in our past lives and so we’re paying for it in this one.

I don’t know about these theories. I mean, anything’s possible. One thing I do know is that God has a deep hatred toward Jews. That’s been way obvious to me. Why else would he have allowed 6 million of us to be tortured and murdered? No, he definitely likes to pick on the Jews, but why I don’t know. I’m not even Jewish, as far as I’m concerned. Just because my parents were Jewish, doesn’t mean I have to be. I’ve always been as religious as a doorknob and I plan on staying that way, too!

I hate to do it, but I probably am going to put my allowance money towards a little repair fund. We can’t even go 3-6 months without some major breakage, and I want us to be prepared so we won’t have to be so tight when these multi-hundred-dollar repairs are needed.

Walter and his son worked on the well from 9:30 to 7:30. After they left we went to Circle K for some treats because we felt we deserved it. I even got myself a $3 beanbag Gila Monster with bright metallic colors.

On the way there Tom said that he overheard how much Walter pays his son. He gets $2 a link. We have 38 pipes, so that’s $76. I’d say the kid made out really good at our expense. I wasn’t kidding when I said we do a damn good job of making money for others. We’re definitely, definitely a financial asset to anyone but ourselves. If God could’ve spoken to others in regard to me the day I was born, he’d have said, “Use her, abuse her, and make as much money as you can off of her.”

The problem did turn out to be a hole caused by corrosion. It occurred in the very last pipe right above the pump. This pipe was replaced with one of the old plastic ones which aren’t supposed to corrode like metal ones do. So just like the last time, instead of the water being pumped straight up through the pipes, it’d be pumped up out the hole and back down into the ground again. The further down the pipes are, the more susceptible to corrosion they get as there’s more water the further down you go.

These are one of the many catastrophes in life where I’m glad we don’t have kids to make things twice as hard and twice as expensive. I’m also glad, as funny as it may sound, that God isn’t in the habit of answering my prayers. If he had taken Marge when I wanted him to, then who would we run to for money? If this woman doesn’t have empathy enough by now to give us a Christmas bonus this year, she never will.

Tom suggested I try putting a general spell on us and see if it’ll help ward off whatever evil haunts and harasses us, but I doubt I can do that. God’s not going to allow me the powers to do things he doesn’t want done, and again, what would be the point of cursing someone if they’re either dead or able to ward it off?

Sometimes I wonder why we bother to forge ahead when something up there is only going to come and tear down what we’ve achieved. I want so bad to have 5 minutes alone with the cock that fired Tom, but I know that if I ever even so much as thought of fighting back against those who have wronged us, God would punish me all the more, so I’m forced to simply grin and bear it.

Both Tom and I agree that I’m getting better and better at rigging scratch tickets with my mind, but to remove the curse in general? I just can’t imagine being able to do that. Rigging tickets is hard enough as it is because there’s so much I have to mentally alter. I have to rig the call letters/numbers, then the game board part itself, then the barcode where winning tickets are scanned for verification.

I’ve gotten to like some of this incense, though I’m still not sure I’ll ever reorder. Especially not if I’m going to turn my fun money into a repair savings account. As much as I wanted the mannequin, the dolls, the DVD, the trimmer, I know I can do without them. Shopping is fun, but material things aren’t the most important things in life, surviving is. Mary’s stamps are all gone now, so I’ll probably make a point of mailing out just one envelope a week.

I just hope we’re out of here before the next scheduled attack on the well. They’re going after it again in late ’06 or early ’07 and I totally trust my vibes on that one after being right on everything else, including this latest attack which I predicted nearly to the day. On the other hand, this shit will happen to us no matter where we go, and if we go to a place even more remote than this, then that’s all the more reason we’ll have to have a well. We can’t haul water if there’s no one around to get the water from in the first place.

I have to wonder if another possibility I’m cursed like this could be because of the spells I’ve put on those who’ve crossed me or those I care about. But I wasn’t always able to curse others so maybe the reasons for my being cursed fluctuated. Even so, there’s a good possibility that I’ve harmed many people on account of my spells. What goes around really does come around. An example of that is that for years I’d bitch about how my parents were never going to pay for their abuse towards me, but when you think about it, really think about it, you see that they are paying. They lost their daughter forever. For the rest of their lives, they can only wonder about me and hear gossip which they’ll just have to sort through and decide for themselves whether or not what they hear is true. Never again can they know what’s true for real, see me, hear me, etc. I’m forever a memory of theirs. A face in a photograph, a voice on tape, an image on video. That’s all I am. I’m like an intangible entity for them that can never really truly come to life.

Anyway, I really wish I knew what was causing this curse. I kind of think that knowing might be the key to actually doing something about it for a change. Right now all we can do is bitch about it. Still, this is why I constantly analyze the past. We can learn a lot from the past, even if it means we still can’t necessarily change the future. Looking at past curses, like the things that broke and the things I didn’t achieve that I once wanted, helps me to see and recognize any patterns that may be of whatever significance in the end.

A lot of people choose to forget the most depressing, frustrating times in their lives, and that’s all well and good. I’m all for moving on and living for the future. However, I don’t think we should completely forget the bad times because it makes us appreciate the good times all the more. This is why every Wednesday that Maricopa’s supposed to report (I’m sure that will change at some point), I’m thankful I’m not one of the ones who has to report. Every other weekday during the hours of 10 AM-3 PM, I delight in the fact that Scot won’t be stopping by.

The more I think about moving, the more I like the idea, despite the pros and cons I see in it. I don’t like the idea of living in an old dump again, I worry about sonic booms and punishments for moving, but I really like the idea of having no house payments while we build our own castle that we’ll hopefully live happily ever after in till we’re too old to live so far out. I swear, though, if we ever live in the city again it’ll be in a retirement community. I also like the idea of having more land and more spending money. How fun it’d be to have at least $100 a month to play with on top of an unlimited grocery budget!

Later…

It’d be a bizarre sort of karma if Little Buddy’s picture won money. The welfare bums cost us thousands of dollars, yet if it wasn’t for them, there’d be no bottles and this picture wouldn’t exist. I know it’ll never happen, though. Not in a million years. I may win a medal, but that’d be only because I couldn’t do anything with it.

I told Tom I think we should return the cages as soon as we get them and save the money. I can make do just fine with what we’ve got. I still have one Play City cage, 3 tanks, the maze, tubes galore, plus other accessories.

The renters, who were amazingly out of sight and sound all day yesterday, were out burning this evening. They’ve been burning almost every day, though if we had that many people in my household, we’d have to burn that often, too.

I still like to walk outside when it’s too hot for the renters to be out, but I’ve tightened my walking trail. Instead of venturing far out on the sides, I walk around the house, staying pretty close to it. That takes about a minute, that’s how long the house is. So I’d have to circle it 20 times to get 20 minutes of walking put in. Tom recommends walking every other day. That’s what I figured I’d do when my schedule calls for it (I’ll jog indoors when I’m on nights). The question is, do I walk 20 minutes, 30 minutes, 45 minutes or an hour? I guess I’ll just base it on how I feel.

While I was out there, I kept the front and side doors unlocked in case any strays got a little too friendly. It wouldn’t have made sense to open the back door as there are no stairs by it right now. Tom took those stairs and replaced the old, rickety side stairs with them before one of us could fall through and break a leg like I’ve been fearing.