Swapped emails with D, Eileen and Paul. D has a cold, Eileen asked if I got the Valentine’s card she sent me, and Paul is just Paul. He was in one of last night’s strange and unnerving mixture of senseless dreams, but I will get to that soon enough.

D and I couldn’t resist going back to sending several emails a day, so we swapped messages on and off in between her being sick and me working on various things.

Yesterday she appeared to be available on Yahoo all day and by 7pm I couldn’t resist the urge to say hello, but she never replied. So I guess she wasn’t actually there.

I told Eileen we only pick up our mail once a week. After 4 months of holidays disrupting the mail, it will be nice to get a break from that for a while! We usually go on Thursdays or Fridays, but we may go on Wednesday this week. Anyway, she’s been having fun spending time with her granddaughter but is tired from all the activity.

Last night the heat didn’t come on till 11:30 and today we had to open windows for a while. It almost got up to 85º in here, though the temp drops fast after dark.

Incredibly, I heard not one single sound from Jesse yesterday. No motorcycle, no bulldozer, no barking, no nothing. Today he came and went on the motorcycle at which time there was some barking. I told Whiskey to be quiet and he did. The temperature and time of day definitely have a part in how well he listens. The earlier it is and the colder it is, the more he barks and will only shut up for a few minutes at a time when yelled at. If it’s warmer and later in the day, the commands have more lasting effects.

Tom said Brandy was down here yesterday which doesn’t surprise me. I still think they’re abused and neglected, so the more they get to know us, the more they’ll hang out down here.

I dreamt that I went with Tom to pick up the mail and the check came. He said, “It looks like they’re going to white us out.” I asked what that meant – shit, I’m getting a cramp in my hand when I type – and he said that a “white-out” meant that that would be our last check. Instead of panicking, I figured, oh well, so we gotta kill ourselves so we don’t starve in the streets. So be it. I knew I’d miss D, but also knew I’d never again have to worry about bills or any of life’s bullshit.

Then the dream continued in this spacious, modern place we could never move to if we were on unemployment, and I thought to myself that at least we’d get to “die in style.” Tom asked how I liked it there and I said it was nice, but a bit of a walk from my computer to the toilet (since I’m always peeing with all the water I drink).

Next thing I know we’re back here and someone’s working for Jesse on the cement stairs he decided to create going from our place and straight up the hill to his door (God, I hope he doesn’t do that!). I said to the guy, “Well, I won’t tell you to shut up since my husband works nights and is asleep at the other end of the place, but do you know anything about these white-outs? Does the government just starve people like that?”

Not that Tom’s bound to have the blessing of a job for quite a while in reality, but the guy said, “Yup, they do it all the time.”

I then started wandering around and in just minutes I happened to be halfway around the world in front of Paul’s place in England, LOL. He was hanging out front. I recognized him from his picture and he recognized me, too. “Oh, hey there, Jodi!” he said, “How are you?”

“Hi Paul,” I said back. “I’m okay.”

He invited me in but I was hesitant because I know he hates to lose time from his writing. But he assured me a few minutes would be fine and so we ended up chatting and even cooking God knows what for what had to be a lot longer than a few minutes. How I got back home is a mystery to me, LOL.

Lastly, I dreamt I joined this escort service of all things. I wasn’t there because I wanted to be there, but because I needed the money. So I waited in a waiting room to be “bought.” A woman who was sort of short, fat, old and ugly (like me. :)) came in and decided to buy me. I was glad to have been sold to a woman if I had to be sold to anyone. But then I learned she was actually taking me home to her husband. I woke up trying to figure out if I could get the money and then split before I had to actually render any services.

Tom assured me there’s no such thing as a “white-out” and that all is fine with our money. I think I’m just going to be a worrywart forever no matter what!