I’m having one of those days where I’m caught up on my sleep, so I thought I’d do a little updating.

The last two days were a killer stress-wise. It was looking like we might run out of money before we could get a check from either the Unemployment people or a job, and this still may happen, in which case I would kill myself for sure by carbon monoxide. There’s no way I’d let God throw me on the streets, though whether or not Tom went with me would be his choice. However, it’s looking very promising as far as him getting a job in Rocklin at a shipping and receiving place. It’s a temp job, and I guess if they like you they hire you on full-time and give you a raise. He’s certainly qualified for this job, according to the description he read to me. The bad news is that it is day-shift and low-paying, but at least it’s a buck higher than I thought at $10 an hour. He thinks he could advance quickly. Let’s hope so, although all I care about at this point is not ending up on the streets and being forced to kill myself in a motel on a hard, cold, uncomfortable tile floor in the bathroom. An apartment may be just as noisy as a motel, but I’d rather die there with my own stuff, in my own bed, on my own terms, and without housekeepers. I just want him employed! So does he. The amazing thing is that Rocklin was his first choice as far as what town he wanted to work and live in because it has rural areas! That’d be a first – God letting us go where we want. But if we’re in an apartment, why wouldn’t He? I guess we could do what we did in Oregon and go from the motels to a rocking duplex where we could take our time to shop around for the right house. Only this time around we’d probably be going from the motels to an apartment instead, though shared walls are shared walls, period. By then I’ll be beyond sick of moving and beyond used to noise that I may say “fuck it,” and just stay put as much as I’d hate it. It’d be nice if I could do that. If I could make myself a heavy sleeper who didn’t mind the banging, the music, the horns and all the other shit, I’d really have it made! Especially since it’d only be a matter of time before circumstances put us right back there anyway. I know one thing for sure, though, and that’s that we aren’t changing states again until he’s retired! This time around is much scarier than last time. The last time was mostly depressing because that’s when I knew without a doubt that I’d never get to live where I wanted to. Better yet, I could live where I wanted to, but not in what I wanted to. So that sad reality slapping me in the face like it did had me really bummed out. But the last time he at least had a job before we had to play motel, and we were looking for a place in a town where the rents are half of what they are here. What makes this time around so much scarier is not having any income from either a job, Unemployment, or anything else.

Other than being exhausted most of the time and stressed out, and other than the person above us stomping around and throwing things on the floor every so often, neither of us miss that Oregon dump one bit. I don’t like how there are more people and traffic here, but I do like that we’re in the Cali sun! It still hasn’t hit me that I made it here. That I live here. I don’t think that’ll happen while my mind’s so preoccupied with day-to-day survival.

Overall, this place is rather comatose compared to the Motel 6, though I’m sick of us living in one room! I like space and privacy at times and being able to go into another room, other than a bathroom, and shut the door. I miss sleeping in my own bed/room too, but thanks to the earplugs, sleep mask and sound machine, we can sleep in the same room. Still, I miss being able to sleep with just the sound machine. I can ditch the mask, but I sure can’t ditch anything else in an apartment! There’ll be too many vibrations and loud sounds to sleep very well there. I doubt I’ll be able to go more than a few days at a time without any wake-up calls. Like I said, I’d just be thrilled for him to get a job and save us from the streets! We’ve agreed, like I also said, not to let it come to that (referring to killing myself) because there’s no way we could make it on the streets anyway. He might be able to since he can keep a schedule and deal with heat and cold, but I couldn’t because of my schedule. Not that I could get any sleep in a shelter anyway at night when they let you in. And where would I go in the daytime when they kick you out? Even if we could make it on the streets, I think we deserve much better than that. Especially at our age. I would never allow myself to be belittled like that by God. I may not be able to stop Him from picking out the noisiest people for us to have to live with, or from being dirt poor all over again, but I’ll be damned if I’ll be tossed onto the streets like yesterday’s garbage!

We walked to a thrift store earlier where I got a paperback book.

My thinning shears arrived today and I thinned my hair in the back, towards the nape of my neck.

I also got that brush set I won. Two of the brushes are useless to me because they’re round and they can get tangled in my hair easily. The housekeeper can have them. The set had a large regular brush, though, that’s great. It also came with a treatment spray.

I’ve been getting a surprising number of letters from Mary. As smart as she is, she can be naive and immature at times, especially where guys are concerned, though it’s kind of funny.