Been here nearly 4 months now. The question is, will we be here for 9 more weeks, 37 more weeks, or 63 more weeks? Like I said, if I knew it would stay the way it has been, I’d be willing to stay here till we were either ready to move to California, or ready to buy something somewhere, but I can’t know that. I’m not that psychic. Logically speaking, I don’t see how it could stay like this. Good neighbors come and go and so do bad ones.

I’ve been working on a story I started in Maricopa as well as one I just started. As for the one I just finished, we’re now editing one chapter at a time. Tom inserts comments by using footnotes in the copy he has on his computer, then he sends it to my computer. I then edit what I think should be edited from what he points out.

Meanwhile, like we seem to do most of the time, all we can do is wait. Wait and see if Walmart hires him. Wait and see if we move. Wait and see if my story gets published.

I submitted photos I took of our Arizona and Oregon land to this site that does detailed profiling of towns/cities. Maybe they’ll post them. I’ll keep an eye out for them.

Paula’s back to being lazy, selfish and ungrateful by not caring to write. All those envelopes and still not a word. Oh well. As I told her, I won’t write until she does. I sent her a note, along with that horrid Patchouli oil, and a letter to Bob.

After a few hesitations, I decided to send Mary a letter after all. I don’t see what harm it could do, and it really wouldn’t matter one way or another if she responded. She might if she’s curious about the book I told her I was on the brink of publishing (I figure sooner or later I just might get something published), but I also said some pretty mean things to her. Well, not necessarily mean things, but things she would perceive as being mean. If I told her I thought she was overly sensitive and a bit paranoid, that would be taken as an insult by her, whereas to me, I’m simply expressing my opinion without trying to hurt her in any way. If she does respond, I’m going to tell her that it’d be best if we agreed that I don’t do any typing for her. That way she won’t have to worry that I’m doing it on account of some hidden motive other than to simply help her out.

Later…

Bev just left with Romeo after slamming the door on the way out.

Meanwhile, I submitted a picture of Bailey with Barbie for publication, and hopefully, hopefully, some sort of prize, though I won’t count on it with the odds being so damn high. Even if we do move in May, we’d leave a forwarding address, so I’d get whatever may be coming to me if I beat the odds. This picture is definitely unique.