Bev’s gonna be out back again soon. I can hear her washer swishing. But she just did laundry last Friday, so how can she already have more to do?

Last night we heard something fall over there. Something wooden. We then heard a bit of hammering.

Not at all surprisingly, I didn’t get the package I should’ve gotten yesterday, so it looks like I’m going to be forced to play mail carrier yet again as is the case with every other package I get. If the package doesn’t come today, there’s no way in hell I’ll order from SOS. There’s no way I’ll order from any site. My days of chasing packages and doing other people’s jobs for them are over. If I can’t find what I want in a person, I just won’t get it.

Today’s Andy’s birthday. He would be 44 years old today. That’s hard to imagine. I wonder if he still looks younger, or if like with me, he caught up with himself. I know that once I hit my 30s, I started looking more my age, but he still looked a bit younger. Better yet, I wonder if his life is the same as Paula’s has been since 1990. Is he still a pothead floating from one hopeless job to another? Is he still alone and lonely with nothing more than an occasional fling that really wasn’t fulfilling in any way? Does he still love to gab on the phone, play the keyboard, and eat non-stop? Is he still even in Arizona? Well, if he’s still wheeling and dealing with the pot, I hope to hell for his sake that he’s still in the habit of getting away with things and that he’s never been caught. If he gets caught, what would be a simple warning and slap on the wrist in most states, will be many months in jail, many months of probation, many hours of community service, many hours of counseling, and many hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in the state he’s in.

Tom describes my writing as “almost there, but not quite there yet,” and I agree. I’m a good writer and I know it, but I could be better.

Supposedly we have 75 days left here, but I don’t know. I think that once we get into March, I’ll vibe it one way or another as to whether or not we’re going to make it out of here. All I know is that something up there wants me with people and very close to them, too.

Later…

Guess maybe she does have some bright colors over there. Her pink sheets.

I’m a little bummed out today. I’m not in tears or anything like that, but the thought of us not making it out of here in May is depressing. My bedroom/office is right smack in the middle of this damn lot! I’m totally convinced now that there is no ideal place for us to live, and if there is, they’re either places that are too remote, too cold, or too expensive.

I so do miss the warm climates! I miss being able to sleep with nothing on, and I’m sick of having to bundle up, too. At least it keeps things quiet. Never do I see basketball games or people hanging in front of the houses when I look out the front window. Never do they have tons of company or sit in parked cars blasting music. They get in their cars and go. Period. And they don’t make a big production of returning either. They don’t act like they own the neighborhood and they don’t let everyone around them know what they’re up to. The only thing I hear is the dogs across from us that bark whenever people walk by, but they’re only left outside during sunny afternoons. Not 24/7, rain or shine. They’re also nowhere near as loud as the dogs in Phoenix were.

But still… why oh why can’t I have a nice, modest, quiet little house with more privacy in a warmer climate that isn’t a year’s drive to the nearest store?

It pisses me off when I look out to see Bev hanging clothes, not that she doesn’t have the right to do so. It’s just that we came here to look out our windows and see the wilderness and the wildlife, not someone hanging clothes barely 50’ away! Why is it that we get what we didn’t ask for when we set out to do something???

Later…

The truck is acting up, so Tom didn’t get to fill out more job applications. Makes me wonder if it’s to hinder him from finding a better job. Or to keep me from getting out of here this weekend, and that’s exactly what’ll happen if the truck needs parts with the money I was going to spend on the first dolls in 7 months. The only reason we’d go out if not to shop would be to escape the animals if they come around this weekend. Anyway, I’m amazed it took this long to act up, but I figured that’s cuz we’re in the city where it’s not driven as much.

I think my depression is mostly due to the fact that my May-moving vibes are fading. It figures. Nothing ever happens when I want it to, and of course it’s always hard to get out of places I don’t want to be in. I may as well get used to it, though, cuz we may end up here a whole year or more.