Making my final entry of the month to say that Tom might get a job promotion, but we don’t know yet for sure. It has to do with taking over the position of somebody who’s going on maternity leave, and we hope to learn something soon, one way or the other.

We went bike riding after he got home and ate, and now I’m listening to the sounds of the wind chimes because it is a bit breezy out there tonight. It’s supposed to be cool and rainy on Sunday, but you know how it usually works… there probably won’t be any rain.

Just thought I would rant. Andy’s memory loss issues are so frustrating. It’s not just an occasional thing either; I constantly have to go over the same things with him, and it’s not always easy to be patient. It’s frustrating to tell him something because I know it’s a 50-50 chance he’ll remember it. It feels like I’m sending my words down a garbage disposal instead of into someone’s ears when I talk to him.

I believe that the 30 years he smoked pot likely contributed to his memory issues. However, I still wonder at times how much of it may be just plain selfishness and not caring enough to listen to the things I say. He asked me if I ever tried Nutrisystem’s food, so I searched my 2014 journal and found I had mentioned it 30 times. Thirty times! I also mentioned it to him on Ask and posted a picture when the food arrived on Facebook, which I know he saw. How many times can you tell someone the same thing before it sticks?

Not too long ago, I told him I was tired of the translation game where he’d post a picture with writing in another language for me to translate, and what does he do? He goes and posts a German quote and asks me to translate it.

He has been known in the past to be insensitive and even enjoy annoying, grossing out, and offending people, so what am I to think? It’s like how someone gets a prank phone call and my name is the first one they think of. However, I wasn’t always guilty, so maybe he isn’t always messing with me either, as I sometimes suspect. I suspect his doctor doesn’t understand the extent of his memory issues because I doubt he would come out and say, “By the way, Doc, I smoked weed for 30 years.”

Andy is one of those people I will always love and hate at the same time. Well, hate might be too strong a word, but I certainly have mixed emotions. A part of me wishes he didn’t have so much free time on his hands, but I know I would miss him if he suddenly weren’t around.

Later...

My period is now three weeks late, and I’m still wondering when, if ever, it’s going to show up. Tom and I both think I’ll get it sooner or later. I swear I feel these little pre-cramps, signaling that it’s about to begin, but then it never does. I hope there is nothing wrong with me, though neither of us thinks there is. I just had an exam not too long ago after all.

I’m just so tired of the long-drawn-out PMS phases. Nobody should have more than a few days to a week of PMS. Instead, I feel like I spend half my life PMSing.

Whenever I worry that something may kill me before I am old or before Tom dies, since I plan to go when he goes, I remind myself that the cursed don’t usually die young. If I’m right about being cursed throughout much of my life, then why would it kill me now? After all, if I’m dead, it can’t have its fun with me. This theory gives me a little hope that maybe if there is an afterlife, it truly is better than this life. If it weren’t, then why not just hurry up and kill me if it does harbor any hatred for me?

Although I’ve been a little better, death and dying are still on my mind too much. Too often, my mind plays out different scenarios of how the end may come. I worry that no matter how or when I die, I won’t go as peacefully as my parents and brother were said to have gone, and that I will suffer great agony in the end. And what if the afterlife is actually much, much worse?

While I still feel like I have many different things to look forward to in life, I also feel like life is one big waiting game and I’m just making the best of it until it ends. Technically, I suppose that’s all any of us can do.

When I’m in a gloomy mood, it’s easier to focus on the negative aspects of life, just like it’s easier to focus on the positive aspects when I’m in a better mood. His income is a great example of that. The most important thing in life is to be able to pay for the things you need. There is absolutely no doubt about that, and I meant it when I said that I would be grateful for just that much even if there was never any extra money. However, I can’t help but feel insulted for my husband and his year 2000 income. The average income is 50K these days, according to a chart I read that lists yearly averages from 1952 on up. So then why is my husband, who has worked very hard for so many years, making 32K without overtime? Twenty- and thirty-year-olds make twice as much, yet here he is busting his ass off for an income fit for 15 years ago. Even in Maricopa, he wasn’t making the national average. He was still 5-6 years behind even then. So what is he going to do, get paid an income fit for 2005 in 2025?

If I weren’t cursed with my schedule problem and was paid fairly, we could be making a total of 100K. Instead, we get a measly 32K. I’m just tired of being cheated when it comes to money. I should be getting disability benefits. I should have inherited a lot more than I did.

Life is never fair, he says. True, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I accept it. I expect it. But I definitely don’t like it.

Yes, my sleep disorder is one of my biggest curses, which sometimes gets me down. We rescheduled the ear doctor for later in the week, but there’s no way I can make it. I don’t feel bad for having to cancel because she did it to me, but it’s just one more thing I have to deal with. I still feel like all these appointments are having the cockroach effect where they keep breeding and multiplying. I’m hoping against hope that after I see my endo doc and have my foot followed up on, I can schedule appointments for both my eyes and ears, and catch a break over the summer.

I try to look at the good in my schedule-less life, although it is not always easy to do. Life would be more convenient if I were always on days, but then I would have to listen to the daytime noise about 20 days a month instead of about 10 days a month. Being on nights not only allows me to enjoy the peace and quiet, but it also allows me to go out exercising during the summer nights when it’s cooler.

I have been getting lazy again where my story is concerned. I always seem to be off to a good start, but then somewhere between 5K-10K words, I get tired of it.

Later...

Thought I’d start my entry while my food is cooling. Then I am going to eat and do some cleaning. After that’s done I will return to finish this entry. There really isn’t anything to update on, though. Once it’s cooler and traffic dies down around 9 or 10 this evening, I will go out walking.

In last night’s dream, the Kim that I briefly knew down in Arizona was responsible for committing some huge crime that somehow affected me along with many others. I was so pissed off that I threatened to kill her if she ever got out of prison and I was able to find her.

In another dream, Tom had his own apartment way up in a high-rise building. LOL, what’s up with that?

In yet another dream, I was at Valleyhead. Fun. :( I awoke in the dark parking lot in a van. Maybe I fell asleep after some of us were out somewhere and nobody wanted to wake me up. It was pitch black when I stepped out of the van. I couldn’t even see where the house was. I looked up toward the sky, trying to see if I could make out its roof against the sky but couldn’t. I knew it had rained recently and that there would be puddles scattered around the ground. I then realized I had on my nice new white slippers and that they would get filthy as I trekked through the muddy water.

Once inside the building, the sun was coming up and I looked at my bed longingly (the bottom bunk in a huge room), wishing I could return to sleep.

Instead, I went to shower with my slippers on in hopes of cleansing the mud from them.

When I was done, a blonde girl who might’ve been Maria raised her head from one of the upper bunks 2-3 bunks away from mine. She called to me in a hushed tone since most of the others were still asleep, and I walked over to her. My father was still alive in this dream apparently, because when she insisted that my dad and my brother left their glasses behind the last time they visited and that they were in the office, I said, ”I’m pretty sure my dad would’ve returned for the glasses by now, and my brother is dead, so that can’t be.”

For some reason, she seemed skeptical and I seemed offended, but then I turned to go through some important papers because I was getting ready to leave the place for good.

Well, we didn’t finish the painting yesterday, but it has been completed today. Next weekend, I plan to touch up spots that were missed with an artist’s brush. Some of the grooves were challenging to cover with the larger brush, particularly sections near the trim or ceiling. The drop cloths effectively protected the desk, washer, and dryer from paint, but we didn’t bother with the floor since it's due for replacement.

During a bike ride, the direct sunlight made it uncomfortably warm, so we didn’t stay out long. We rode down to the lake and fed the ducks.

I really wish they would ban those loud car stereos on the freeway once and for all. It’s frustrating that expressing an opinion seems difficult, yet disturbing the peace is tolerated.

In last night’s dream, we were vacationing in Hawaii. I may have had two dreams—one where we were considering moving there permanently. I enjoyed swimming in a pool and felt the same magical pull as our first visit. Tom didn't share the sentiment, so we decided not to move there.

In another scene, we admired the lush green grass of a lawn, a stark contrast to the drought-stricken area we're accustomed to. While out walking, Tom asked if we should explore a different area of Hawaii next time, to which I agreed.

We walked through a makeshift hotel where Tom amusedly commented on the proliferation of rooms. He helped a woman and her granddaughter with a gadget, delaying our plans slightly, which mildly annoyed me.

I just finished watching an episode of Forensic Files featuring a black Florida man who was tried and acquitted ten times for violent crimes before finally being convicted. It's frustratingly typical.

Tom hopes to finish the painting in the laundry room today, but life doesn’t always go according to plan, so we'll see.

The daytime weather has been beautiful, but it’s still chilly in the early mornings.

In one of last night’s dreams, I was staying in a large, two-story house with my sister and nieces. I occupied a cluttered bedroom with its own bathroom, a level of disarray my sister would never tolerate in real life. One night, I retired early before my nieces (Tammy was out somewhere).

The following morning, I asked them if they entered my room for any reason, but they denied it, though I could have sworn someone tiptoed in at some point.

In another dream, something was amiss with me, seemingly related to a medication I was taking rather than any underlying illness (hopefully not a warning sign!). I found myself in a large room with several people, and at one point, Mary G (now Mary D) approached me. She looked great, slim and trim with her hair pulled back in a long, thick wavy ponytail to her waist. She wore a summery dress and sandals with a 2 or 3-inch heel.

She approached me as if our real-life falling out hadn't occurred (over her use of me and her trust issues) and asked if everything was okay. I don't recall my reply, but I seemed to be crying as I responded. She mentioned something about either avoiding or reducing a certain medication, then walked away.

Later, I watched a prison documentary featuring her, though no such documentary existed in reality.

In the last dream, I held a small rabbit that bit me before it leaped out of my arms and started hopping away. A cat started chasing it, and I secretly hoped the cat would catch it for biting me.

Later...

The latest incident involves three individuals who attacked a white man on a subway simply for his opinion (or lack thereof) on Michael Brown. It's shameful that bystanders didn't intervene to help the victim but instead recorded the incident. Sadly, defending whites seems uncommon these days.

It's sickening. If they want acceptance in society, this isn't the way to achieve it. But many seem to accept these aggressive individuals who react violently to differing opinions.

Unfortunately, even if the perpetrators are caught, they might not be charged with the hate crime they should be. There are evident double standards in today's society. Blacks seem to get away with far too much while falsely claiming racism.

It's disheartening to witness the continued blaming of others and making excuses for their actions. The focus should be on taking responsibility for one's behavior.

I've encountered racism firsthand and heard numerous similar experiences. I could never hate someone for their race, but behavior is a different matter. I refuse to feel guilty for expressing negative feelings toward individuals or groups who cause harm.

I've learned that knowledge is power, and as long as I abide by blogging laws and avoid providing sensitive information or making direct threats, I'm within my rights to express my opinions.

I'll keep this entry private for my cousin Norma's sake, who inexplicably still sympathizes with these individuals. While I empathize with victims from the past, I refuse to condone violence as a means of seeking justice for historical injustices.

It's disheartening that some individuals resort to violence to advance in life. I'm frustrated by the prevalence of news about violent acts committed by certain groups.

I wish I could opt out of trending news, but to stay connected with loved ones on Facebook, I'm inundated with such content.

"When we laugh or scorn others who are different from us or who do things differently than we do, we are not only being mean, insensitive, and judgmental, but we are also being hypocritical in a sense, since we don’t want anybody laughing or judging us in return."

I completely resonate with the sentiment in the quote above. I often wonder what annoys me more: when people try to impose their beliefs on me or when they try to impose their interests on me.

Just when I thought this rat had stopped its random screaming, I was startled by it again last night. It caught me off guard enough that I yelled at it to shut up. Maybe it’s a game to the rat, and perhaps I should scream back? It’s both annoying and amusing, considering I've had rats since 1998, yet this behavior is still entirely new to me.

The other day, Tom mentioned that the room was spinning so badly when he got up that it took him a few attempts just to make it to the bathroom. His inner ear sometimes gets clogged up, and it was a while before he could even eat.

I slept kind of poorly because I kept waking up frequently, and one of those times was due to a sharp pain in the sole of my right foot.

I only recall a few seconds of last night’s dream. Once again, I found myself living with my mother (almost as bad as being chased by a monster), and our house was situated down a long winding driveway. At the end of the driveway, it went up a bit of a hill before descending into a clearing where the house stood, reminiscent of the location of the trailer in Auburn. However, instead of a dumpy old trailer, there was a large two-story house.

On a dark and rainy night, both my mother and I appeared relieved at the sight of the house. I remarked, "Ah, nothing like a warm bed awaiting us." Then, I looked at her and said, "Aren’t you glad to be able to go to bed now?" She nodded and then pressed a button on a remote, illuminating the kitchen lights.

Once again, I woke up with a scratchy throat, feeling almost as if there’s a dry spot in it. It won’t last long, but I just don’t understand it. I also keep feeling like my period is right around the corner, though it never comes. Despite sleeping well enough, I feel tired. My schedule shifted a whopping four hours, which is unusual for me—I usually only jump one or two. It wasn’t that I slept particularly long; rather, I was up very late last night. I just couldn’t sleep.

My toe might have oozed a bit during the night, so I soaked it in Epsom salt and decided to skip today’s walk. It still doesn’t hurt, though.

Yesterday, Tom and I went bike riding, and then I made us some pork chops when we got back to the house. Unfortunately, there was a lot of traffic at the time.

The weather is absolutely gorgeous now—neither too warm nor too cold, and perfectly dry.

Yesterday, the Forever in Blue Jeans figurines, along with the bronze statue, arrived. The erotic statue is okay, but I am more impressed with the others than I thought I would be. Even Tom likes them.

I’m recreating a collectibles chart in Word, adding little thumbnails of each collectible. Sometimes I just can’t remember who's who.

My weight is starting to become concerning. I usually don’t go to bed with a weight higher than 152 pounds before my periods. Last night, I was at 154.8. I managed to drop to around 153.4 before falling asleep, but I still woke up half a pound heavier than yesterday. It's only weight, right?

I know 2 pounds might not seem significant to most people, but for me, at my age and height, and considering I've remained within a pretty small weight range for years, it's troubling. I'm almost never under 147 or over 152. Some of it could be water weight, but the drastic fluctuations after eating suggest otherwise. I’ll definitely mention this to the doctor, as the constant water retention and super slow metabolism are really getting to me at times. I can’t seem to eat anything without gaining weight, not even an 80-calorie yogurt. I just doubt that she can help me any more than the ear doctor can.

I know technically my body wouldn’t gain weight it didn’t feel it needed. Like Tom says, my heart beats at the speed it needs to beat. However, since I do work out and I don’t overeat every single day, yet the weight hangs on, it's frustrating. I’ll have to find some way to finally reach acceptance and let my weight go wherever it’s meant to go if there’s truly nothing that can be done about it.

Next door continues to make two to three trips out a day, and I still can’t imagine where these people could be going so often seven days a week. Everyone else around us comes and goes zero to one time a day. At least I know there won’t be any projects going on during those 30 minutes to two hours that they’re out.

These landscapers are driving me insane like never before! Why are they doing this twice a day? They've been worse than ever, even during the winter. They won’t stop, and they can’t be drowned out. Joy obviously doesn’t care that we pay them hundreds of dollars each month. All she cares about is that everybody else complains if they’re not out there every day. I can’t believe people would actually want to listen to this every single day. The majority of them must be deafer than deaf. The equipment they use is so loud that I have to blast music or nature sounds to drown them out. They’re not even that close to the house, which shows how insanely loud they are. If they’re going to do this every day, I don’t understand why they don’t use quieter equipment. I also don’t understand why they feel the need to keep doing the same areas over and over every single day when other places do this once a week. There’s nothing about our plants and trees that grow faster than anyone else's. I’m just so sick and tired of hearing these things buzzing about every single day.

Today has turned out to be a really interesting day. Firstly, it was great to catch up with my sister yesterday. I had been worried about her as she has been feeling rather trapped and depressed. She’s highly allergic to the palm trees around her and has been unable to work not just because of allergies, but also because of other health problems, mostly concerning her lungs and heart. It’s sad because she was so excited about training to be a victim’s advocate, but that will have to wait. It seems that the only good thing she’s gotten out of Florida so far is the climate itself. Otherwise, she and Mark have had really bad luck so far. :(

She sent me a selfie, and she looks absolutely different. I wouldn’t recognize her. She’s gained weight, and her hair is half gray, half blond, much to my surprise. Tom thought she looked good, though, considering all she’s been through. Sometimes I still worry that she won’t make it much longer, but other times I am confident that she will.

The interesting part is that the lovely English actress Jenny Seagrove started following me on Twitter. I had a dream about her a few nights ago where my deceased mother sent me to live with her in London because the economy was bad. Anyway, I mentioned this to Jenny in a tweet and told her I had been a fan of hers since the '90s.

I actually went to see her in a horror movie with Andy in 1990 in Springfield, Massachusetts. It was called The Guardian. She was in her early 30s at the time. I liked both the movie and her, and even had a little crush on her for a while.

I haven’t been into celebrities since the '90s and see them as no more or less human than anybody else. In fact, I look down upon some of them and find them to be horrible role models for youngsters these days. I could walk by the most famous of celebrities right this second and not be any more fazed than if I walked by a total nobody. I admit I often roll my eyes at those who drool over celebrities as if they’re magical little gods. However, I can’t deny that I was quite flattered to find she followed me after I started following her. Had somebody told me this would happen over 20 years ago when I was having fun printing stills I made from her videos, which was then a relatively new thing, I would have laughed my ass off.

I guess I will watch what I say on Twitter, within reason, and curb my swearing and things like that, even though I don’t expect her to actually see most of my tweets. Also, even though I doubt she would read it, much less be offended if she did, I will not share the link to this blog post on Twitter either.

Although my toe stung and throbbed last night, I didn’t wake up with the achy toe I expected today. When the other doctor treated my toe, I woke up several times in pain. It just shows how much better this doctor is—she did a far better job.

It took me a few minutes to snip the bandage off this morning. I thought the toe would look kind of gross, but it doesn’t, and I’m not walking with a limp either. However, it doesn’t mean I should hit the treadmill just yet. I soaked it in Epsom salt and decided not to put a Band-Aid on it yet so I could let it air out for a while. Band-Aids can actually slow the healing process.

The doctor seemed really understanding that what happened last summer put a complex on me when it comes to all things medical. Even though I have improved immensely, the fears caused by such trauma don’t usually dissipate in just days or even weeks; it takes months. I still worry that my heart may race even on just 50 mcg. Living in fear is terrible. When nothing is actually happening to me, I worry that it will. However, I have no doubt that each month passing without incident will make it easier for me.

In last night’s dreams, my mother was still alive, and apparently, I was living with her. The economy was really bad, so she wanted to close up the house and have us go live somewhere else until the recession ended. She went to stay with a friend and then she sent me to the home of the actress Jenny Seagrove, LOL.

She had a huge house, and there were always tons of fun things to do in and around her house. She and I eventually became more than friends. She had a huge pool with a slide that ran down into another pool, which sort of wound around part of her property like a moat. Even though I had just taken a shower, the water was so beautiful that I wanted to take another swim.

Next thing I knew, Becky, my VH sister, was in the pool with me. She said, ”I’m always just a few minutes and one phone call away.” I was touched at how much she still cared about me and went to hug her. She stiffened up and kind of pushed me away, though. I thought it was a bit strange, but I was having too much fun to really care.

We were on our way to the ear specialist this morning when I realized I'd received a message earlier saying she’d called out for the day. Initially, I was annoyed that I hadn’t checked my messages before leaving the house. However, we decided to seize the opportunity and headed to Home Depot, where we picked up some more painting brushes and an 8’ strip of rainbow tape lighting.

After returning home, we had to rush out again in 20 minutes for the podiatrist, so this will be a rather quick entry.

My heart started racing yesterday when I sat down to watch a show and eat some crackers. My first thought was, oh no, you've got to be kidding me?! Then I experienced stomach pains followed by the runs. I'm hoping it was just something I ate that was bad (maybe the milk in the cereal I had earlier?).

Later...

Just got back from a little unexpected toe surgery. I mean, I knew she was going to do this; I just didn’t expect it to be today. Sensing my anxiety, she decided it would be best to just go ahead and get it over with, and I’m glad she did, even though I'm now swapping in lidocaine for pain as the numbness wears off. It's throbbing and stinging, just like last time.

Doctor M was great, and I already gave her a rave review on Yelp. She was very friendly, and very skinny too, LOL, like she never eats. I'd guess her to be somewhere in her 30s. She was blond, blue-eyed, and American, so I didn't have to deal with any funky accents. Her assistant was also American and very friendly.

She killed the root on the left side of the toe, so the ingrown toenail has only a 10% chance of growing back. This doctor was much better than that hotshot quack I used to see. She poured cold water with some chemical in it as she was numbing me, which made it easier. The other doctor just shot me up raw. This doctor said that was cruel. Yeah, it kinda was, LOL. She also used one of those tourniquets you tie on instead of the ring that the other doctor slipped on my toe.

Recovery could take a while, so I may be limping around for several days. No working out for me for a while either, so I gotta watch what I eat as my hypothyroidism hasn’t improved as much as I wish it would.

The chemical she used to burn the root may cause oozing at times because a blister forms afterward. I have to soak it in Epsom salt each day, and I have ibuprofen if the pain gets to me.

As for the fungus that’s in 4 of the nails… she said it’s a simple surface fungus (onychomycosis) and can be treated with an over-the-counter remedy. She said to make an appointment if it’s still present in 6 months or if the toe she worked on develops any problems. There’s always a risk of infection. I will have a follow-up appointment the day after I see my endo.

I keep hoping all these damn appointments will slow down soon, but it seems they never do. I still have to reschedule the ear specialist and get my eyes dealt with.

I had positive dreams for once, so that was nice. In one dream, we were staying at a hotel. I came back to the room after being out somewhere to find the housekeeper cleaning away, and then some guy said I won some expensive power tools and $2500 cash. I hope the cash win was a good sign for whenever we go to Reno, which may be a while due to the snow up in the mountains, and my toe.