I was hoping the never-ending cloud coverage would deter the Sunday shooters, but nope. They’re going at it like crazy. You can’t even go 30 seconds without hearing a shot and these are loud shots. Sounds like car doors slamming just outside the house.

Meanwhile, as soon as I see I’m right about not getting the oil in tomorrow’s mail, I’m going to call Bob instead of email him. The cock needs to either give me the damn oil or give me a refund. Then if he still can’t get his shit together, I’ll have to find a new supplier, and I hate to have to do so because I really like his site. However, as long as I’m stuck living in a world with incompetent assholes, I’m going to have to keep moving around from supplier to supplier till I get fed up and consider giving up incense altogether as I’m on the verge of doing with porcelain dolls.

These weight-loss ads I keep getting are such BS. Especially when the skinny people they have showing off their supposed weight loss are always young people who are almost always skinny anyway. Never have I seen people my age or older in these ads showing off how skinny they are because no normal, healthy middle-aged or old person is supposed to be skinny.

Tomorrow’s the day we call the realtor. There is a chance we may have a hard time finding one willing to deal with the bank, but I think we’ll be okay. Remember, whatever’s here wants us out of here, so it wouldn’t make sense for it to do things to hinder us from getting out of here, which means it’ll probably guide us to the right realtor or influence the realtor to help get us out of here. If we’ll get the money that’s rightfully ours, I don’t know. All I do know is that we’re both looking way forward to having a house no one can take from us and saving a fortune on electricity by generating our own with solar panels. Next, we need to hope we get a successful enough business going to get Tom out of having to work out of the house so that’ll be even one more thing people can’t use against us, although it wouldn’t be as much of a crisis if they did keep laying him off or firing him because he could settle for any job, even if it was just minimum wage, making long commutes the only real issue. To keep a house like this, though, you need to make big bucks and big bucks only. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what the hell we were thinking when we took on this house. He knew he didn’t want to stay at the bank forever anyway, and most jobs simply don’t start you off at $16 an hour. As Tom himself agrees, if there was a way to fuck up and make the wrong decision when we left Phoenix, whether God was punishing us for leaving or not, we found it. We made all the wrong decisions for damn sure! Hopefully, now that we’re armed with knowledge and experience we didn’t have before, we’ll get it right this time if people could just stay out of our way and quit fucking with us.