Anyway, I’m doing laundry now, preparing the grocery list and taking advantage of this rare opportunity where I can do the daily sweeps using the Shazam feature because we’re up to full speed, another rarity in our lives. We’re thinking of shutting them down when our two “free” months are up and just going to the library every few days to check email because it makes no sense to pay for what we don’t get half the time. But no matter how much we beg and plead, they absolutely refuse to help us.

I am both happy and unhappy in life and I have been for quite some time now. I am happy I have someone who loves me. I am happy to be in good health. I am happy to have two girlfriends even if one doesn’t have lust/feelings for me, and the other is an up-and-down yo-yo that’s hard to figure.

But I’m unhappy to know that the economy is never going to get better in my lifetime. At least that’s what I’ve truly come to believe. It’s been 4 years now that we’ve been stuck in this same old rut with just a few short-term odd jobs here and there, so why should I believe anything’s going to change now? Or in the future?

We not only can’t afford to upgrade this old shitbox to make it more efficient and comfy, but we can’t even afford to get rid of shit we don’t want/need to make more space in here. Hardly anything is selling on eBay or anywhere else these days.

I decided that since I know I’ll just end up miserable for some reason no matter where we go, we might as well stay here where it’s cheaper. On the other hand, if we continue getting such shitty internet service and don’t want to keep going to the library then we’ll be forced to move, risky or not if we ever do get the chance to in our lifetime. I see only two potential chances to get out of here and that’s either next summer if there’s anything in his pension fund, or from whatever my parents may leave us. But I don’t expect much from the pension fund if anything at all, and fortunately my parents should have several more years left to live.

And so I will live in an undersized shitbox filled with barking and no hope for the future until I end it all, and it’s so true that only I can end it. I just can’t end it the way I’d like to end it which would be by having a decent life. All we wanted was just a damn job and a simple home where we didn’t have to hear other people’s animals. I don’t make them listen to mine, not that rats are noisy. But why was that so damn much to ask for? I wasn’t asking for any “special treatment” from life or from any person. People may be quick to tell me that a life of poverty in noisy rentals is better than a life in prison or in some war-torn place like the Middle East, but to me this is bad enough. It’s not what I want; it’s not what I deserve, and if I can’t have the life I want then maybe I just don’t deserve to have one in the first place. It’s not just about being unable to be in the driver’s seat of my life, but also about the possibility of being right about some outer source having a hand in doing this to me. Well, the thought of my death being a real slap in the face to whatever the hell it is and the reality that it can never hurt me again or curse me in any way is quite satisfying. Can’t deny that much. It just won’t be happening till the end of the year if it does happen. I don’t know what the afterlife may hold for me, but I’ve got to find out someday anyway, and the more this shit goes on, the less scared I am at the thought of finding out. For now, I will just try to make the best of however many more weeks or months I’ve got left.

I remember full well the rejection I went through from the gay community for being as feminine as I am. I was seen as ugly as a man usually sees a severely obese woman and I knew it.

One night I did an experiment when Andy and I went out to a gay bar and ditched the heels, dress and makeup altogether. I braided my hair, stuffed it down a baggy T-shirt so it wouldn’t appear so damn long, and wore jeans and sneakers. Not one ounce of makeup either. Still, no one would go near me. That’s when I realized it wasn’t just about my femininity despite the fact that yes, that’s really seen as a no-no for the most part in the gay world unless you’re a guy in drag, but about fate. I, Jodi Lin, was simply not meant to be with anyone and experience true lust. I would have been quite a slut too, LOL, had fate allowed me to. But that was another thing the bastard above – or whatever’s up there – took away from me. So there I was, in the so-called prime of my sex life, left to live on empty dreams only.

By the time I got to Arizona, I quit feeling sorry for myself and became angry. I wanted to “pay people back” and lead them on and dump them and just shit on society in general. But if my botched “experiment” wasn’t funny enough, well, I couldn’t hook any lady’s interest (unless it was another Brenda or Kacey) in the first place in order to screw them over. Not sure if I could have in the end anyway. I’m more compassionate than I even like to admit and I would have felt too guilty just thinking about dumping someone as long as they were good to me. So I was no Ice Princess in that department.

So here I am without a stitch of regret over meeting/marrying Tom, but sometimes sad and a bit angry about what else I may have missed out on before we met because I didn’t have the “right” look and because something up there hates me so damn much that it wants to make sure to deprive me of every single fucking dream I could ever have. Each thing that I lose out on convinces me all the more that it’s not just a case of bad luck. If I’d lost out on a few, then yes, but not after losing out on one thing after another. And while I know deep down in my heart of hearts that I’m just as deserving as anyone else out there, it also lowers my self-esteem and my self-confidence and makes me feel like I’m the undeserving piece of shit it seems to think I am. That’s ok; a few more months and the party’s over for whatever’s been so determined to cheat me out of life. It was never mine to live but it’s mine to take. And I can and will do that anytime I’m ready to.

These days I don’t really fall into much of any category. I am not fat but I am not thin. I am not ugly but I am not pretty. I am not plain but I am not cute. The only thing I’m sure of today is that I am in one seriously fucked up mood. No doubt about that one!

I feel like Tom’s already retired even though he wasn’t supposed to retire till he was 66 years and 6 months. 666 – the devil. Cute, huh?

A couple more days and his shit mom turns 88. I quit checking the obits to see if she’s gone bye-bye. The benign bitch is never gonna die.