Amazingly enough, I don’t think Jesse went out last night or the night before last. It’s been too quiet for him to have taken off.

I was reading the start of Alison’s latest story. It’s so damn good! It also gave me an idea for a story of my own. I’ve actually got 3 ideas now. Why must the ideas come faster than I can turn them into print?

Later…

I have been trying and trying so hard to shake the depression I’ve been so strongly gripped by but it’s like it has a permanent hold on me. I’m still working out and doing the things I normally do like laundry and housekeeping, but for the most part, all I want to do is sit and write, lie in bed or listen to music.

I asked Tom if he had anything in writing that said he would be receiving the pension money at 55 and he said that if he ever did it’s long gone. Yeah, and how much you wanna bet the bastard above made sure of that and that there’s no way to sue the fuckers for lying to us? See, this is why I think we’re being cursed by something with a conscience that can think and plan. Had we had a few rough patches in life I’d write it off to bad luck, but when shit like this keeps happening to us over and over again throughout our lives, it becomes rather obvious (at least to me) that something’s deliberately, knowingly and intentionally setting us up to keep falling flat on our asses. The 20K I thought we were supposed to have gotten would’ve sprung us out of here and over to Florida where we could’ve got along just fine until he got a job and us into a rental in a senior community. I wouldn’t have minded never owning again if we could have kept the landlord out of the picture for the most part as we could in Oregon and not have to share the property with anyone else while we were at it.

On the other hand, how I wish I just loved apartments! Our lives would be so much easier. But once again, why do I have a feeling that whatever’s up there, be it a God or a devil, helped make sure I can’t stand them so our lives would be even harder on us? Oh, how I wish I could adapt to whatever I wanted to adapt to! I’d gladly get a cheap apartment and just accept the fact that being a light sleeper who sometimes sleeps during the day I would get woken up here and there. Why can’t I just deal with other people’s noise and just accept it like I accept the sounds of nature, the train passing through, and airplanes flying around? Why is it so damn hard for me to put up with the banging and other shit that goes with attached living and not let it distract and irritate me? At least in an apartment, I wouldn’t have to worry about the treadmill, my own music or any other racket I may make being complained of since everyone else would be too busy making their own racket to even notice.

Then again, if we could choose what we like and not have certain things annoy us, couldn’t we then choose our sexualities, what colors/foods/music we like, and more? How I wish we could! The “new” me would just love apartments and be content to spend the rest of her life there, attracted to her husband only and never again to another woman.

Maybe I was going about life the wrong way. Maybe instead of trying to run from everything I hated or at least didn’t want, I should’ve accepted the fact that everyone hates their jobs, their homes, and basically their whole damn lives, and instead go for everything I hated or didn’t want as a means of forcing myself to adapt and learn to just get used to and deal with the fact that life is never what we want it to be anyway. People like to kid themselves into thinking life is what we make it and that we have free will, but that’s just not reality. Not for the most part anyway. I could choose pink lipstick over red, but when it comes to the big things – the important things that really matter – how much of it do we really have any control over?

So the next time the dogs go off, why don’t I just not reach for the sound machines for once and just learn to get used to them and just fucking deal with it? I guess the only way to know if I can get myself to be who I want to be is to stop trying to be who I am. Right?

I didn’t choose or ask to be attracted to Nane, any more than anyone else (gay/bi/straight) picks and chooses who they’re attracted to, but I could have chosen not to befriend her. I’m glad I did, but I’ll certainly be keeping my mouth shut in the future, if there is a future for me, when I next find myself attracted to someone. Why flirt or get to know someone I couldn’t have any way for even if they wanted me in return and were right down the street when I have no desire to ever leave my husband?

Anyway, back to the pension. Cursed or not I don’t see how the hell they can legally keep us from our money and basically lie to us like they did and change the rules whenever the hell they feel like it. I can see them adjusting the age for those signing on at the time they wanted to change them, but to tell someone they can have their own money at 55, then change it to 65, is totally wrong. But of course the bastard above – whatever it is – will make sure there’s no way to sue them silly for fucking us over.

I’m not even going to bother calling the people I won the Italy trip for. Once again, living where one wants to live is not real life. Especially for us. And there’s no point in getting a free hotel stay when you can’t buy food or gas or anything else you need till you get a job.

I would never expect any off-the-wall changes like waking up taller one day, but God I really wish I loved apartments! An apartment would have so much more than this old trailer has even if we didn’t save much money there. Most complexes in the west have full-size washers and dryers in some sort of laundry room, and even if it didn’t have a dishwasher, it would have a pool and be in much newer and better condition than this old dump. Why can’t I want what’s best and what’s right for us?!?! Moving to an apartment so we could not struggle so much would initially be trading in one misery for another, but sooner or later even I would adapt and be ok with apartment life, right? Maybe even like it? Hmm… well, I never could get myself used to and liking the duplex we were in for 10 months in Oregon, and it could get noisy as hell sandwiched in by loud TVs and barking dogs on one side and a family who lived in their backyard on the other side, but maybe I was too stubborn to and simply didn’t go in there with the right attitude. I went in there thinking I would get the hell out the first chance I got and that’s exactly what I did. The house we moved to wasn’t always quiet since it was on a busy street and every other car had loud stereos, but I was way happier there. Way happier. But what if I had gone into the duplex with the attitude that yeah, life sucks and then you die so just deal with it and other people’s antics? Would that have made a difference?

sighs I just don’t know what to do. No matter where I live and what I have for money, I still don’t know that I want to live to get old and acquire the problems most people have with age. Unlike most people, I’m not going to have the luxury of dying while surrounded by family and friends. My friends and family are too far away and most of them will be dying or already dead by the time my own time comes to head for the pearly gates. The only thing I do know is that we can never do anything and life can never go on for us (good or bad) as long as no one gives my husband a job. That much I do know.

Speaking of adapting, I’m still getting used to the new glasses. I like how they fit better and don’t fall off when I look downward, and I like how I see better close-up, but the distance is even blurrier with these things. Even just a few feet away is blurrier. So if I see a little spot on the wall I don’t think should be there, I have to practically stick my face in it to see if it’s a spider, not something I care to do.

It was much cooler today and we may have seen the last of the temps in the 90s.