My computer is still fucked up. Between that and my schedule, why do I feel like something’s trying to keep me from the Magic Multiplier Marathon? Is it just part of the Jodi’s-not-allowed-to-make-any-money rule? But I wouldn’t be making that much!

I’m still going back and forth between thinking the tea’s done all it can do for me, to thinking I just may keep losing weight after all. Right now I think I’ll keep losing very slowly.

Every now and then we all get to remembering an old friend, acquaintance, coworker, neighbor or whoever. Well, Stacey S, that confusing bitch of a manager I had to deal with at the Vista Ventana apartments 15 years ago, popped into my mind. She was tall and slender, and her shape and hairstyle reminded me of Kate Jackson, along with her mannerisms and voice. I once told her this too, and she said, “Kate Jackson, huh?” She was a blue-eyed blond, though, so she wasn’t gorgeous. But there was something about that hot-tempered bitch. I sure would deal with someone like that a hell of a lot differently these days being smarter and more mature than I was then.

I checked out of curiosity and found a Stacey S listed in Phoenix who was born in ’66. Wow, I thought she was a few years older than me. She seemed it just by the way she acted.

She was one of those whom I felt God favored. I didn’t know a damn thing about her other than that she had a daughter in the fall of ’93. Mary B, the girl with CP who lived under that bitch Andi, told me so. I wonder if having her for a mother would be much better than having mine for a mother?! Anyway, like I said, I didn’t know her, but she seemed to be one of those who had it all and could get whatever she wanted that she didn’t have. She had a good job, a nice car, a husband who could obviously perform in bed, and the choice to have or not to have kids. I’ll bet she’s always lived in fairly decent houses and came from a loving family, too. For all I know she could be divorced now and her kid could’ve died in some tragic accident, but it’s always the feeling I had about her.

To this day I still wonder what drove her to pick on me the way she did. I was reading back on the journal excerpts from when I lived there, and she really ran my nerves through the wringer and pissed me off! She butted into my business with other tenants, she accused me of shit I knew nothing about like vandalism, she said strange things suggesting that she was spying on me, she said mean things about me to Andy, trying to get him to dump me and all that, and then she refused to let me out of my lease by allowing someone to sublet my studio which would’ve made the company a little more money. She went from being downright stern and unfriendly to being quite friendly, even laughing when I’d go off on her for something.

I and others came up with many theories as to why she behaved as she did – she treated everyone like shit, she did it because she hated Jews, she did it because of my appearance, she did it because she had a secret crush on me that freaked her out and so she didn’t know how to deal with me, etc. Whatever it was, I’ll never know. Wonder if she knew, though, when she saw me on the news, that Jodi S was really Jodi O?

Later…

My laptop is on its way, and so are 6 pairs of reusable earplugs that aren’t like any of these foam earplugs I use. They’re made of wax, cotton and lanolin and should block out sounds way better. I figure if I’m not going to be allowed to ever live in peace, I may as well get something that blocks sound better than these foam plugs do. Living with earplugs of any kind is no way to have to live, but neither is the shit that goes with apartment living. I’d rather the earplugs if they’re going to give me any peace and keep me from losing my sanity altogether. Then all I’d have to worry about is vibrant sounds that I could feel. But if we can get a place on concrete and stay away from parking lots, driveways and streets, then all I’d have to worry about are non-vibrant sounds.

Thanks to God blessing me with this sleep curse, I’ll be exhausted when the marathon starts. I swear I hate Him so much for singling me out and picking on me the way He has throughout my life with the flukiest, freakiest things! Sure, there are some with lives worse than mine, but mine’s been bad enough at times. Having a guy who loves and accepts me as I am helps make up for it, but sometimes I wish I wasn’t so damn unique and eccentric. Really, there’s not a damn thing ordinary about me! Sometimes I wish I could be boringly normal and keep a schedule and drive myself to the same old boring job every day. It isn’t just one bad thing God’s allowed to happen to me, but an accumulation of a zillion things over the years.