Not surprisingly, when he went to call the transmission guy, some lady answered and said, “Oh, you did follow up,” after Tom explained who he was and why he was calling, then said she’d tell the guy he called and to call back next week. As a long shot, I had suggested that perhaps they were testing him to see how much he wanted the job. Well, if this isn’t a test, then they’re certainly doing a good job of leading him on.

Because so many businesses are losing employees to the new Walmart that only Tom, or so it seems, can’t work at, he’s hoping this will help him to either get a raise where he’s at or get a better-paying job. Not if we’re cursed, though. If we’re as cursed as I think we are right now, then our struggles aren’t even close to ending. Whatever wants us broke isn’t going to let us have money anytime soon. Allowing him more money would be defeating its purpose. Either way, this town is a horrible place to try to find a job, and the lack of insurance really sucks, too!

Last night I had a bit of a panic attack. My worst cavity was acting up like crazy and I was so overwhelmed with feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. I just feel so damn trapped! I’m so afraid that he’s going to be stuck at MCX for God knows how many months and that we’ll be stuck in this duplex indefinitely as well. And if God had to put it in our cards to be poor so much of the time, couldn’t he have least left my damn teeth alone? Tom found a dental plan for $23 a month. I don’t like the $23 a month, but I like how they only charge $30 for fillings, rather than $60 or more. Since it may take a couple of months to get started, we’re going to sell the truck and use the money from that to at least get the worst one filled while his shit of a mother continues to sit on her pampered ass. At least we want to sell this piece of shit of a truck anyway and avoid driving as much as possible since gas prices are so high, but the thought of him walking 5-6 miles to and from work saddens me. It also pisses me the fuck off! Words cannot express my hatred towards God for seeing us kicked down and held there like this. I hate Him with a mad passion!

Our lovely God is also seeing to it that we have more computer problems because there’s not much else to break around here that’s ours. Again my computer wouldn’t boot. Tom had to spend 4 hours working on it all the while next door went back and forth and back and forth. The good news is that he found the problem. It had to do with a bad slot on the motherboard. The bad news is that he can’t get my sound working. Not yet anyway.

I saw the happy hypo this morning. We both went out at the same time to pull in the trash cans after they were dumped. She smiled and called out a cheery “Good morning.” I simply waved back. I wasn’t in the mood to talk anyway. That damn hypo better not drive me as crazy as she did last week ever again while we’re still stuck here! Doesn’t she know how maddening that was to us? She’s got to. She had the same shit in here before us.

I doubt I’ll ever do this, but maybe I’ll at least consider reuniting with Tammy one day in order to slowly get back into the will. She may not have beaten me or sent me to Valleyhead and Brattleboro, but she did lead the sickos to our door, so I don’t know. I doubt she ever intended for me to go to jail, but anyway, to avoid Doe and Art, who are much worse to deal with than Tammy would be, though she’d be bad enough, she could keep me informed as to when the last one was close to death (I’m afraid I can bet just which one that will be!) and then maybe I can play kiss and make up and weasel my way into the will. It’s just a loose idea I’m tossing about, but like I said, I don’t know if it’s worth it. Tammy’s such an asshole and so are the folks. They all have the same negative and infuriating traits I could do without, so if I do this it won’t be anytime too soon. They’re too young yet. I also won’t go back as a “failure.” Meaning, you can bet your ass I’m gonna spin off a few mild tales so I don’t have to listen to shit along the way to the will about my not working and shit like that. I don’t need the ridicule, the cut-downs, etc. I’m not working because I can’t work. I can’t prove that I can’t work, but if I ever can, I will, and I’ll get back on my benefits, too. I wouldn’t fabricate anything overly intricate. Since they know about jail, but not about him getting fired unless the queen opened her big mouth, I’m not about to say that he got fired and that we came up here just to be poorer than ever with all our plans shot to hell (that’s still not entirely a bad thing with how cold/snowy that mountain gets. What was I thinking when I said we should go to Oregon? Stupid fool!). I would say I was set up by old neighbors with bad connections (which is true) and that they threatened us, so the witness protection program moved us! It’d be just like the games he and I play of being on the run whenever we move. I’ll say I sell dolls and incense on and off and write gay books (that’s true, too). So it wouldn’t be anything too off the wall like alien abductions or anything like that, though I still don’t know if contact at any point is a good idea. It will depend on what kind of a toll the years of struggling takes on us, though there still wouldn’t be any guarantees that I could jump back in the will. I’d have to use good timing. If I returned just as the last one to go got comfy on their deathbed, then my true motives would appear too obvious. I doubt I’ll bother, but we’ll see. Just like I wish he was an only child, so do I! Life would’ve been and could be so much easier for both of us if that were the case!