Sunday, February 23, 2025

I think I got sleep apnea’d awake. At least I seemed to have breathing issues upon waking up and they didn’t seem connected to my nose. It’s either that or medication accumulation, but right now, I’m breathing fine and suspect sleep apnea. 

Why did I have to get so fucking fat?! I wouldn’t give a shit if it weren’t for health issues and the fact that it’s harder to get around with the extra weight. It limits my range of mobility—at least as an older person, it does. I have seen younger people much bigger than me who are way more flexible, and all I can do is sit and say, how? How, how, how?

No guarantees losing 30 pounds would do me any good anyway, though, because again, things still change with age, and my throat structure is still what it is. But it might help with other things like cholesterol and blood pressure. Oh well. I’ll never know what it may or may not help with because I’m not losing it—not with the sheer slavery it would take in my case due to my thyroid issues and not with how the medication could affect me since it’s weight-dependent.

I have a bad feeling that, for whatever reason, I’m due for another shitty sleep spell. I knew it was coming anytime now. Unfortunately, these are never isolated incidents. So the question isn’t if I’m going to be tired for days, but how many days? 

In a couple of hours, it’s supposed to rain for nearly 24 hours. The other question is whether or not it’s going to thunder while I’m sleeping.

Rain will keep him off the motorcycle but won’t stop him from working since he’s worked in the rain before, and I can see he’s far from done. It’s been two fucking months already! How did we go from projects that took a few days to what’s now a couple of months? Cock started at 8:00 a.m. and didn’t wrap it up until after dark. He worked for about 12 hours, but Tom didn’t hear anything. It was mostly quiet work. If he did use the saw and the hammer, it was minimal. Tom said it looked like he’s still adding baseboards. The bastard’s place isn’t much bigger than ours, so how many baseboards could he need?

If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was aimed at me since he’s increased his work since he dumped me. Tom thinks he planned to do this ever since he got the place, which I suspect was in 2019.

Part of me thinks he’s prepping to sell but just isn’t saying so, just like we’re not saying so until and if it actually comes time. I can’t believe he would ever quit being a snowbird, though, because he really seems to love it here and knows a lot of people throughout the state. So if he is prepping to move and it’s got nothing to do with Colleen, maybe he plans to relocate within the state. Since he’s not bringing in the money he used to when he was working, it makes sense that he would do all he could to milk whatever he could out of the place if he were planning to sell. Tom doesn’t think he is going to sell. I wish he would, although I would still be nervous about what we may end up with. Yes, he can be too in-my-face, but at least he’s not here half the year. I don’t want to end up with full-time barking and revving motorcycles that we can’t do anything about no matter how much we complain.

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