YESTERDAY:

Tom says we don’t need new forever stamps, and that the ones we have really are for forever. That’s good, but the fact that the propane may not last till we can get more isn’t. I’m sick of living on the edge like this! You’d think that after being poor for as long as I have I’d eventually get used to it and roll with the punches much in the way that I used to, but instead it only pisses me off more and more with time and makes me more resentful of the God above that allows it. Knowing we’re going to be struggling for the rest of our lives is a very hard pill to swallow. But we weren’t meant to have money any more than Tom was meant to be short and I was meant to be tall. So why can’t I just get used to it, accept it and just learn to live poorly?! Is poverty really the end of the world? And it’s not like there won’t be some scattered comfort spells mixed in. There always has been in the past.

I’m just so pissed cuz it’s looking more like I’m going to be right about Tom losing his Mac and the TV. I’m so fucking sick of losing! I try to tell myself, “Aw, come on. Struggling is good for you. It keeps you from taking things for granted.”

But I could never take anything for granted after all the struggling we’ve done. No way in hell. I’d never fail to appreciate each and every day that we didn’t have to have the stress of worrying about how we’re going to pay for this or pay for that over our heads. Yet God wants us poor. I don’t know why, but He must or why else would He have ignored my countless prayers for change?

He keeps saying there’ll be jobs soon enough and he’ll get a job, he’ll get raises, his program will pay off, we’ll eventually own our own house, then enjoy the extra money his pension will bring. But as a psychic with the kind of accuracy rate I have, why would I be wrong in saying poverty is what’s forever in our cards?

Broke or not, Jesse did come down and fix the cooler. I patted the dogs, of course. Jesse’s leaving early for Reno in the morning and won’t be back until Friday night. He said they’re doing some job that should be done by the 15th and was even gone all last week, too. Thank God the dog’s no longer in heat or pregnant (which I agree is what was stirring them up), or else I’d have practically had to shut them up around the clock!

I still don’t see why he’d want to be getting a third dog when he’s never home. Tom says that’s why you get so many; so they can keep each other company. But it still makes no sense to me. They could keep each other company either way, so why get dogs that are hardly ever going to have people around? He did say his family will be checking in on them, but it still seems so pointless. And I wonder how much longer the peace is going to last before something else stirs the dogs up or there’s something else going on around here? The helicopters are done flying about like crazy, so what’s next?

Jesse mentioned picking up some plywood from his pile of shit he’s got down here sometime next week. Not when I’m sleeping, I hope.

TODAY:

Got up at 6:30. No problems with the dogs, so all is quiet till Brandy goes into heat again. Obviously, he has no plans to fix her since she’s already 4 years old and hasn’t been fixed yet.

I miss sweeping, but I also miss the days when I would actually win stuff regularly, too. I just don’t think it’s worth the effort of changing all the passcards and account info every time we get a new address just for an occasional T-shirt. Back when I used to win hundreds – even thousands – of dollars, then it was all worth it, although I did have a dream about winning $500. Still, it seems that was just a fluke of a streak I was on that’s done and over with.

Another thing that’s done and over with is my losing weight. I’ve been right around 127-129 pounds for two months now, so this tells me this is where my body’s most comfortable, even though I wanted to lose another 20 pounds or so. Am I bummed out? Yeah, a little. But I can’t cut back any more than I already have, and well, life isn’t about what we want. It’s about what’s meant to be. I just wish it were easier for me to accept the things I can’t change, like the fact that we’re going to be broke for the rest of our lives. Most of it anyway. At least I’ve gotten out of the habit of saying, “We’ll do or get whatever 6 months from now,” or “We’ll do or get whatever when there’s more money.” There’s never going to be more money, and I’ve come to realize this. I mean, sure, there’ll be a little more every now and then and we may even be comfortable for a few months here and a few months there, but we’ll never have enough to build a significant savings to give us that ever-elusive security we long for. Maybe someday I’ll accept this and not just realize it.

So like I said before, we’re back to playing the stretch-the-propane game. Tom has a small tank that he could run out and fill with propane that’d last a couple of weeks, but I’m just sick of having to go through this shit every fucking time the propane runs low. I think it will last till we call them on the 13th or 14th, but this shit gets old. It really does. For now, though, I’m not going to cut back on showers, but on the time I spend taking them. I’m not going to bother to shave or scrub myself with the loofa mitts. I’m just gonna soap myself up and wash my hair just once, skipping the conditioner.

I sent letters to my folks and Mary to let them know our address would be changing. Tom reread the UPS letter, and according to what it says, they’ll just transfer our mail to the other place, giving us two months to decide if we should do another year with them since it doesn’t look like they’re stealing our stuff after all, and we seldom get packages anymore. Of course, we may be too broke to anyway.

I also dreamt I got a letter from my folks. I wonder if this means there’s one on its way.

Lastly, I dreamt I called Miss Perfect, my sister-in-law, and she seemed happy to hear from me. She asked how I was and I said, “Okay. Just a few minor glitches.”

Then I asked if she wanted to talk to Tom. She said she’d love to, in a delighted tone of voice. Then I was all happy that she and Tom were engaging in a pleasant discussion, not that we’d really have any desire to talk to her or that she’d want to talk to us.