Today’s “question” was: no i meant what i said you deserve all the bad things you get but i do feel sorry for you dear.

But that still makes no sense. If you hate someone enough to feel they deserve bad things, then why would you feel sorry for them? My first thought is that Kim or Molly is behind it or even Molly’s mother. Mrs. M wouldn’t write that poorly, though, with no caps or punctuation. I also realize it could be from some random joker or someone I haven’t considered. Maybe it’s Lisa. Or maybe it’s Alison. Maybe Alison is just as crazy as Kim, though she certainly doesn’t seem to be. Just her job alone says she can’t be that unbalanced or off in any way. The military simply doesn’t deal with the likes of Kim. It’s had some angry, trigger-happy folks at times, but not usually people with MPD.

I deleted the question, but am sorry I did. I thought of a brilliant idea: to twist their words. I’d have to copy it first, then delete it and re-ask the question, but why not add: I hope someone kills you? Maybe that’ll drive them away since they obviously don’t have the guts to say who they are and why they feel so hateful.

My allergies are better today, but they sure drove me crazy yesterday. My nose didn’t run much, but I had random sneezing fits till I finally took a Benadryl.

We were surprised not to hear from the park today. Could this be a good thing? Tom thinks it might be and that they’re waiting for an ok from the individual sellers. If he hasn’t heard from them by Wednesday, he’ll call them. I’m gonna be pissed if they say they misplaced our application or something like that, though it’s better than a rejection. They obviously haven’t called Andy or Jesse cuz they’d have said so if they did. We asked them not to call Jesse till we’ve officially gotten a place because we don’t want him to know we’re moving till we go to give our 30-day notice. Tom still thinks we’re moving this year. I don’t know what to think anymore.

They’ve been running him ragged at work again. What’s the point of implementing a 2nd shift if they’re still going to OT 1st shift so much? He said they’re just stupid. I then suggested he think of transferring to the second shift since I know he prefers it to first. He said he wants to move while on 1st shift because coming in so late may reflect horribly on us with our new neighbors.

But he’s not the only one there who will work and it’s not like he’s going to come in blasting music and honking horns, so I don’t get what he’s worried about. He said most of the people there aren’t going to be working, but so what? His neighbor worshiping really annoys me. We haven’t even gotten and met the new neighbors yet and already he’s putting them before us and worrying too much about what they’ll think or how things will reflect on us. I reminded him that he can’t control people’s minds, thoughts and actions and so he shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe he’ll “reflect” horribly in their eyes cuz he has a shirt the color of dried shit. Anything we say and do could offend someone, somewhere at any time. That’s why I exercise good judgment within reason in my blog, but I’m not going to not write just because someone may take offense to my saying pink is a lovely color. Really, it just seems so stupid and pointless to worry about others so much. We don’t owe them anymore or less than the basic niceties in life we’d give anyone anywhere.

Also, when have we ever had working neighbors? He worries about coming in too late cuz most of them will be retired, yet none of our neighbors worked for the most part. They didn’t work in Phoenix. The renters in back of our Maricopa house and the Mexicans to the side of it were always home. The duplex people were always home in Oregon. The only one that occasionally worked was Kim, the chick next to us in the dumpy house we rented, also in Oregon, and she worked nights. Jesse’s been out of work for the most part, so I find it hard to believe that he’ll suddenly start looking bad in people’s eyes if he worked 2nd or 3rd shift.

I wish he would think of his own health and happiness first. Why use days off to move that could go towards vacations or just vegging out??? To please a neighbor that wouldn’t even hear him anyway as quiet as he is makes no sense at all. I don’t go out of my way to go above and beyond what’s expected of me or to give any extra privileges to anyone I don’t love or care about or that isn’t as good-looking as Nane. Well, no one there is going to look like Nane! If they asked us not to tend to yard work at certain times like Kim did because she slept during the daytime, fine. I can work with someone who politely makes a reasonable request like that. But why assume things and put others first???

It still pisses me off that my parents couldn’t even leave us a few grand, but hey, they just weren’t rich. I don’t doubt, however, that they spent most of their lives very comfortably until the economy went to hell and the medical bills started piling up. I still don’t feel the least bit guilty over resenting them for living high while I went hungry when I first got to Arizona. I really thought I was going to starve to death for a while there!

But we’re far from poor. Tom was looking at RVs and other vehicles just for the hell of it and found many 30’ RVs and cars from the 2000s up that we can easily afford yet still have a savings.

I forgot to say that Andy reminded me that the Middle East includes Israel, so I should be more specific about who I’m talking about. You know, when I say I’m sick of the shit they pull in the Middle East? Well, I ain’t talking about Israel!

I also realize I should be careful not to give people the wrong idea where my friends are concerned when posting old journals no matter how far back in the past it may be. When I first started journaling I wrote for me and me only and in a way that only I understood because I never expected to share them with anyone. I personally don’t give a shit how people perceive me and what conclusions they may come to, real or imaginary, but I realize I should watch what I post about others or at least how it’s worded.