Made a roast yesterday in our new pressure cooker, although we had to add more time than recommended. They suggest 25 minutes for 2 pounds, but we had to cook our 3-pounder for close to an hour. The meat was too tough with less time than that. We also got a chuck roast since there was no eye of the round in stock, and we’re guessing that’s a tougher cut.

In a few hours, we’ll be going to Walmart. We need to finally start paying off our debts, so we won’t get much.

But should we get a cockatiel somewhere down the line? We’re thinking about it. I did a little research on them yesterday. Love how they live a lot longer than rats and how affectionate they’re said to be. Wonder how noisy they are, though.

Thought my worst fear neighbor-wise had come true and that those working on the house were actually the new owners because they were here yesterday, which I didn’t expect. Trust me, you don’t want contractors with garages for neighbors. Early in the morning I saw the same two trucks over there and thought, great, just great. They’re going to always park on the street because they can’t fit in the garage, and also so they can use the garage to work in. But then I remembered Ray bitching about contractors arriving bright and early in the morning on Sundays to prepare to flip the house behind him. Hmm… wonder if that’s what’s going on with this place?

The power chopper arrived yesterday, though there’s not much “power” to it. It’s not an electric chopper or anything. You just place what you want chopped in a little cup below and manually chop it up.

Have a feeling I’m going to have to fight for the set of dolls I won. I remember that; that it’d often be up to me to beg for and work at getting my own damn prizes sent to me. So yes, even winning has its downside. They don’t want to send the prizes; they just want to promote themselves. As they’re doing this, they hope you forget about your wins. I’ve even had to fight for big prizes that took months to receive.

Had a dream I was in the back bedroom of the house we lived in when I was born. I was gazing out the side window, but the view was nothing like it would be in real life. In real life, you’d just see other houses. In the dream, there were many bustling streets.

Then I had a horrible dream about watching a little girl drown. The girl had long blond hair and was 4 or 5 years old. A bunch of people and I were standing around a pool. Some were in the pool, and the nearest swimmer dove down toward her when I shouted that she’d suddenly sunk to the bottom.

I was standing next to her father. Her mother wasn’t around, but I knew he and his wife had a house to which he suddenly drove me. I thought it strange that he didn’t want to stick around to see his kid rescued, or god forbid, drowned. It’s like he wanted to delay knowing the outcome of the ordeal as long as he could. Like the longer he put it off, the longer he could hope for the best. Or delay the inevitable.

At his house, I offered to do their laundry. “Have you ever washed a man’s clothes before?” he asked me, and I knew that what he really meant was whether or not washing his clothes, as well as his wife’s, would make me uncomfortable.

I assured him I was fine with it, but was unable to locate their washer and dryer. He then pulled out a huge metal drawer and said he’d show me how to use it. I guess it was some new way of washing clothes, LOL.