Still on the verge of hitting down at 130 pounds, but don’t know when I will for sure. Probably within a few days. It’s going sooo slowly! I’m only averaging a 2-pound loss per month, but better slower than never. I’m estimating I won’t hit 120 until August if I keep on losing, and 110 won’t happen till January. I didn’t realize it was going to slow down this much.

Some clothes that were too tight are now either fitting nicely or very close to it.

Tom said he only heard a few barks yesterday, but it’s too soon to say whether or not Jesse gets it. Or if he gives a damn. He also said I shouldn’t worry about when he goes back to work because they’ll settle into a routine once they realize he’ll be gone most days.

I hope my mid-month vibes are right about Tom himself going back to work!

Emilie surprised me by getting another bid. There are 9 hours to go yet. Today we’ll be listing another doll, plus a couple more fashions.

The only bad thing was that I had another “black” dream. It didn’t have anything to do with my perpetrators down in Arizona, I don’t think, but it still wasn’t a very thrilling dream at all. God, I hope nothing’s trying to warn me of any kind of trouble to come! I’m getting killed in my dreams, and last night it was possible charges of murder. I don’t know if I really killed the person I was supposed to have killed, but it was almost as vivid and detailed as the one where my uncle killed me and other family members. I’m not sure if Tom was in it, but my folks and Charlotte were, and they seemed to think I was guilty.

In response to my defending myself, my dad said, “But you said so. You told us you didn’t like blacks.”

I said, “But that doesn’t mean I feel I have to go out and kill them as long as they - or anyone else – don’t attack me. Besides, it’s not about their color, it’s about their behavior.”

Then I said something about how I’d already decided that I’d accept how things turned out and that if I went to jail, ok. If not, that’d be ok, too.

Then my mother said, “Well, if you go to jail you’ll never be able to hurt anyone again.”

I said, “That’s not quite true. When I was in before I had to behave even though there were a few people I wouldn’t have minded getting into it with so that I could see Tom and get my commissary. But if I’m going down for life, then I can fuck up all I want.”

Then she repeated more lies she’d heard from the media. She believed them, but I knew they were lies and so that’s when I got fed up with the media and decided to have a talk with them. So a second later I’m in a crowded room that looked like some sort of diner. I spotted some woman I supposedly knew, or knew of, sitting at a booth. She could see I was upset. I slid in next to her, ignoring whoever was across from her. She somehow knew I was involved in a case that was getting media attention and that was why I was there. Then she said, “Well you’re either Jennifer Sprigs or…”

This is the first time I’ve ever dreamt of being addressed by a full name.

I cut her off and told her who I was.

She seemed both surprised and unhappy about learning who I was, and that’s all I can remember about the dream.

If I knew they were dreams and not actual warnings of trouble to come, even if it’s nothing to do with what I dream about, I could live with it. It’s actually kind of nice to be able to wake up from nightmares as too many times in real life it was the other way around. I wished to hell I was in the middle of a nightmare I could wake up from, but my situation at various times was all too real.

Do I think they’re actual warnings? No. I’d say almost certainly not. I haven’t had any bad vibes when I’m awake, and I haven’t done anything wrong either, not that one necessarily has to ask for trouble in life to receive it.