Well, when I asked myself if I wanted the Mexicans to cost us more money or if I wanted to be stuck living with them all over again, I decided I’d rather get away from them and have them cost us a bit more money. This means that we will be checking out of here on Saturday for sure and going to the Townhouse. Tonight we reserved a room for Saturday and Sunday. If worse comes to worst and we can’t afford the Townhouse, which is a bit more expensive without weekly deals, we’ll try some other places. Better yet, I’d like Tom to be right about us being done with motels altogether by October 2nd like he calculated, but I have my doubts. He thinks we can get into an apartment on October 2nd and into a house by February. Nothing ever goes as we plan it, and when it does, it never happens when we plan it. Nonetheless, he went through and explained the math to me and how/why he hopes to have us “sitting pretty” in just a few months from now. I, on the other hand, think we’ll always struggle financially. I’ve been pretty much doing just that since I went out on my own and that was nearly 20 years ago, so why would anything change now unless I get psychic enough to win us tons of money?

The question is – I seem to be saying “the question is” a lot lately – where will we end up? Will a miracle happen in that we find an apartment that’s quiet enough to stay in? Will we end up in a house around February like Tom thinks we can? Will we move to another part of Oregon that’s closer to the coast? Will we save up to buy a place in Nevada? Will we save up to buy/lease a place in a San Diego retirement community? Moving so much is adventurous and does make for good variety, though I’d still like to find a suitable place and stay there for more than half a decade.

See, a lonely prisoner like Bob cared enough to send a letter of encouragement, but does his damn family care? No, of course not! I knew they wouldn’t. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she blew off my birthday and our Christmas money altogether. She’s that selfish, conceited and spiteful. Instead, she’ll send a holiday card to Doe and Art, telling them we’re struggling in Oregon like fools. That’s ok. She’ll be getting what’ll be my final letter. And of course, being the dumb person most people are, Marge will be like, why don’t I ever get letters from Jodi anymore? Why in the world did she stop writing?

Some people just can’t put two and two together!

Bob asked what in the world is Tom doing with a Datsun? Those are horrible. He should get a Ford.

I’ll have to tell him we’re cursed no matter what make/model/year we get.

Tonight’s been ok so far, but it was rather noisy here last night. They slammed car doors and room doors, and the couple next to us argued till 2 AM.

Again I had them give us service, figuring I’d skip tomorrow, then check out Saturday. The guy was telling me that his mom got a little jealous at seeing Tom chatting with Shelvin (they apparently know each other). I defended Tom, of course, letting him know that it wasn’t his fault he happened by while he was working on the truck, and he understood. He said he’s happy as long as his customers are happy and that while Shelvin’s ok, his dad’s mean, very mean. Tom laughed when I told him that. Yes, Mr. Serious isn’t a very nice guy at all. I guess he’s just not a happy person, from what Shelvin told me.

Not surprisingly, when I asked him how the farmers were (they come here every year), he said they were loud and destructive. Yes, they’re little animals. That much is for sure!