I ended up crashing just after 9:00 AM. I woke up a couple of times for a second, then got up at 4:45 to pee. I thought to myself, Wow, that’s the best I’ve slept in ages! My dumbass body didn’t wake me up in any way. No snoring, no tummy issues, no chipmunks, no leaks, no allergies, no nightmares—no nothing.

As I was peeing, though, I heard scuffling sounds and thought it was something Tom was doing. I thought maybe he was in the other bathroom since they’re right next to each other, but I also thought it was a little weird that he would be that animated. Not thinking much of it, I got back in bed and decided to doze off for another hour. Right as I was dozing back off—or at least I think I was, since I was in that zone where you’re not quite sure what’s what—I heard it. Bang, bang, bang! I knew it wasn’t Tom. Turns out Ray’s having his windows replaced.

While it’s great that I’m not nearly as tired as I thought I would be, what’s not great at all is that they’re not finished. From what we can tell, they did the three windows on the other side of the house, plus the second bedroom next to our place. That leaves the three living room windows and possibly the kitchen window. I can’t stay up all fucking day tomorrow, but I don’t see how I can sleep through them pounding away 13 ft from our house. I’ll try cranking the sound machine way up and using an earplug, but I don’t know that that will save me. Even if I don’t actually hear it, I would probably feel the vibrations of the hammering. As I said before, manufactured homes suck.

It wasn’t a window company but someone he knows. There weren’t any logos on the truck. After checking the cameras, I saw that they arrived shortly before 10:00. They stopped working right before 5:00, but didn’t leave until 7:30. He probably fed them dinner. The two guys were pretty young-looking, in their twenties—30s at the very most. At first, I thought it was the guy who was parked on us a couple of years ago, but he was around our age. Could be a relative of that guy, though, if it’s the same truck. Tom said he saw no more than four windows. The bathroom windows have odd sizes, so he may not replace those.

As I told Tom, I don’t see how he cannot see that there’s a curse on my sleep. I couldn’t deny it even if I wanted to. There’s too much of a pattern for too long. It didn’t use my body against me last time around because somehow it must have known about the racket to come next door (at least I slept through the mowers). I’m guessing it’s going to get worse and worse until around Friday, or maybe even later. They’re saying we could have thunderstorms on Thursday. So if they’re banging away finishing up tomorrow, and a storm wakes me up on Thursday, I may be looking at another round of hardcore exhaustion. Then sure enough, as soon as I start to pick back up again on sleep and energy, the shit will hit the fan all over again. Again, this can’t possibly be a coincidence. I just don’t see how there’s any way it could be.

I told Irma about Ray replacing the windows, and she said, “I suppose the roof is next.” My thoughts exactly! And I’m sure it will be when I’m sleeping. That roof is 20 years old, she said, but it has a 30-year life expectancy. I doubt it could last another decade in Florida. I knew he was going to replace the windows, though. That’s not just being psychic but common sense. If you can afford two houses, you’ve got money. I’m almost surprised it took this long. Hopefully, once the windows and roof are done, that will be it for him for a good long time, since you don’t paint vinyl siding and I can't think of anything else he might do. Then I’ll have to listen to whatever the new people in Toni’s place eventually end up doing. I’m still a little surprised her place hasn’t sold yet. Yes, I know the market isn’t that good now, but I would think that having a little more privacy in back would be a plus.

Again, I’m lucky I’m not a lot more tired, but I’m certainly going to be tomorrow and the next day. I know how this vicious cycle works. This is exactly why I’m contemplating ending it more and more. Something up there simply won’t let me live my life. I can’t do things consistently with so much fatigue so often. If I didn’t know any better, I would be fearful that this would end up killing me with the way it’s got to be breaking down my bodily systems as the years add up, not to mention what it’s doing to my brain—but I know better. It doesn’t want to kill me. It just wants to torture me. Keep it up, whatever you are, and I won’t be around for you to get the satisfaction anymore! Really, I’m not going to put up with this. This is no life. If your quality of life sucks, then what’s the point? I feel too shitty too much of the time, and I never once had the desire to spend so much time in bed either. I’m just not that kind of person. I have no desire to lie around half the day wishing I had more energy to do things, and I don't care who may have it worse. This is bad enough. I'm not young anymore and can't simply bounce back like I used to. I want to write, be more active, and much more—not be stuck in bed dreaming of what I can no longer do.

Another thing that frustrates me is Rhonda’s staff, especially since we pay for this shit every month. Again, why ask on forms what our preferred method of contact is if you’re not going to honor the patient’s request if they choose the portal as an option? I went in to shut it down since they’re not going to bother using it, but I couldn’t find an option to delete the account. Next medical group I’m with, I’ll just choose phone calls as my preferred method of contact since that’s what they’re going to do anyway and not bother to sign up for the portal. I’ll just play it their way because I obviously don’t have a choice. I can’t communicate the way I want, and I can’t schedule appointments when I want. They saw my message, but sure enough, they wouldn’t use the portal to tell me why they called. Tom’s going to call for me tomorrow and settle my curiosity. I might just call myself if I’m forced to stay up while Ray has the rest of the windows put in.

Damn, do I miss having breathing room around me! I’m tired of having to know it whenever a neighbor does a project. Once the honker’s daughter leaves, I’m sure I’m going to have to deal with his shit next. Luckily, he’s further away.

The only good news today is Spaces, candles and websites. I’m not sure how he does it, because I’m not a programmer, but he set up a private website similar to how he set up sites for the schedule-predicting program and the cameras. One is for a calendar that we can share for appointments or whatever we want to put on it. He has a lovely background of a whale picture. I think it’s one he took when we were in Hawaii. The other is for to-do and wish lists.

So the candle I got today is white rose and peach. I’m not really smelling any peach, but I definitely smell roses. It’s nice. It’s a Mainstays. Mainstays has never let me down with their candles. They burn well and have a great throw. Then again, the more I concentrate on the smell, maybe I am smelling some peach. It’s mostly a flowery scent. I looked at the Google Sheet where I keep track of my candles—what I like and what I don’t like—and when I counted how many nature scents I have, along with sweets, florals, and fruits, I decided I needed more florals.

Spaces. This is something that has existed on Twitter/X for a while now, but I never really took it seriously. But with Swell going away, I decided to try it. It works pretty well, and you can even go longer than five minutes per chat. You can talk as long as you want. The only thing I don’t like is that I have to wait about five seconds before I start talking; otherwise, the first few words I speak will be cut off. I decided to use my main account much in the way I used to use Swell. This means I’ll talk about whatever, but mostly what’s going on at the moment. I’ll use another account as a memoir. I’ll start at the beginning of my life and slowly work up to present times. Then it will become more of a detailed sort of thing that I won’t share with anyone.