February 1991

2/1/1991 Fri. 8:22 PM

I called and talked one-on-one with a psychic, and you know I believe in them after the “strange” things I’ve done. I’ll write more about what I’ve done another time. Meanwhile, this woman told me everything I’ve always felt. Here goes:

1. You will try to quit smoking again and fail, and you may feel bummed out, but don’t, because in six months you won’t be smoking anymore.

2. If you ever have a baby, you won’t be a young mother; you may be between 33 and 35.

3. Fame will come in seven years, and when I’m just starting to make it in 1994 or so, I’ll meet Linda. Maybe not Gloria for a while, as she’s skittish about meeting new people.

4. I may live in L.A. for a while, then maybe have a huge home in Santa Barbara.

5. Be prepared for a potential break-in in March of 1993. I won’t be living here at the time.

6. This March, I’ll meet a woman with very long dark hair, 5'2" - 5'4", and see her on and off for six months. The problem will be me, as I’ll be unsure, as usual, or thinking, “This woman’s too good to be true.”

7. I’ll meet another woman at the end of this year or very beginning of next who has light to medium brown hair just below her shoulders. She’ll be 5'6", and we’ll have more in common, although she won’t be as well off financially.

To me, it sounds like another Kacey followed by another Brenda.

2/5/1991 Tues. 6 PM

I feel like my whole life’s come to an end. In a month, Andy’s moving to Phoenix, and the only place my mother will move me to is Connecticut. Here I watch my best friend go and follow his dream, while mine gets further and further away. Maybe what I swore was meant to be for 25 years is only a dream I’ll dream and never do. But if it isn’t really meant to be, then why is the vision still so damn clear? It gets clearer and clearer all the time. My voice gets better and better, but it’s like a tease if I can never use it the way I want to. I never said I wouldn’t work for the music, but if I’m never going to be in the right place, then what’s the point?

My mother’s so hung up on controlling me and having me where she wants me to be and doing what she wants me to do. Hey, it’s better than Valleyhead, right? And if anyone’s used to having to settle for second best, it’s me. Some people get everything they want. Some people get some of the things they want. Some people get none of the things they want.

2/8/1991 Fri. midnight

As usual, I have another horrible cold where I just can’t stop sneezing or blowing my nose.

5:44 PM

I really want to perform tonight, believe it or not, but I still don’t feel too good. I woke up at 11:00 this morning with a bad attack that lasted till 5:00 this afternoon. I put my humidifier on, took some Sudafed, and drank two cups of tea.

Andy will be over later so I can record his Dark Shadows show and so we can call Tammy. I’ll write more about what we’re going to talk to Tammy about later. Right now, I have to go pee and make some more tea.

What I had was bad withdrawal too, since I had not smoked for 18 hours.

2/12/1991 Tues. 3:40 AM

Well, I was right about the snow date I predicted right after the big snowstorm on December 28th. The vibe was really weak, though, probably because it only snowed for 10 minutes yesterday, February 11th.

Andy’s going to Phoenix at the beginning of next month, and I doubt I’ll be going too. My sister and my parents refuse to help me. You know how Ma is—it’s either her way or no way.

Jimmy’s buying a house, and he’s offered to store my stuff there, which is nice, but then how am I going to get it cross-country? It’ll take me quite a while to save the money to ship it. I’d rent a furnished apartment, but Andy wouldn’t get an apartment until he gets a job. He doesn’t have guaranteed money as I do from disability (he’s taking the money his folks gave him and is going to stay with friends he knows who used to live here until he gets on his feet). The other alternative would be to sell all my stuff, and I really don’t want to do that. The last alternative is to wait and save the money to move out by shipping my stuff and flying out, but that would cost a pretty penny. I’d have to work part-time for several months, as Tammy said. If I do get out there, I’ll work part-time, hopefully in a restaurant with Andy. Perhaps I could call Philip, but I seriously doubt he’d help me. I want to go to Phoenix not only for my music, but I also need a change. It’s cheaper to live there, it’s warmer, there’s no humidity, it’s great for asthma and allergies, and all the apartments have pools and air conditioning.

Tomorrow I am going to see a mediator with Russ about our so-called heating problem that he’s dying to resolve. I told him I know he’s sincere, and he is, but I’m going to tell it like it is. I have to meet him there at 4:00. Brenda’s taking me.

I feel bad for Brenda because I know she’ll miss me if I move and that she still loves me. I’ll miss her too, of course, and I love her still, but not like she does. She’s a very honest and sincere person, but I’m not overwhelmed by her looks, and she’s not quite my type, as great as she is. But of course, you know there was something there, or I’d never have slept with her in the first place. I’d have only been her friend. She’s far from ugly or a bad person, but that’s the way it always is—they’re either way more into me or I’m way more into them.

Bonny has been a major sweetheart for a long time now, ever since I confronted her about her lies and offered for her to “try” and kick my ass.

2/14/1991 Thurs. 2:10 AM

The last week has taken a weird turn, but a nice one, I hope. First of all, I’m definitely not going to Phoenix because I just can’t see myself selling every single thing I own except for the clothes on my back. A move should be happy, exciting, and adventurous in every way. It should be much more secure, especially as big a move as that. Not sad, stressful, and miserable, too. You know me—I either take my time and do it right, or I don’t do it at all.

Russ and I went to see that mediator, who was a very obvious butch—ugly as all hell, but very nice and very much on my side. I simply told Russ that if he drops the eviction, I won’t press charges in small claims court. He did. After getting home from that meeting, I made a stop by the apartment Eddie and Jo L used to live in. Before I explain why I stopped there, let me back up a bit. About a month or so ago, I met this girl Susan in the laundry room. As we were talking, I learned she’s a singer who has performed quite a bit in Springfield and also in New York. I told her I sang and that it was my goal, and she asked me to stop by, but I was on my negative “I give up” streak due to all the shit I’ve been through.

It’s going to be so hard losing Andy despite the differences we’ve had in the past. We love each other to death and always will, even though I’ve had many desires to mutilate him here and there. I hope, however, that he goes to Phoenix, discovers it’s all he’s wanted it to be, and I can save money and join him someday.

As far as Sue goes, I finally thought, what the fuck? If I don’t try, I have nothing to lose. I stopped by, left my number with her roommate Jen, and she called me when she got in and came up. We harmonized together, and it sounded great. She had a cold, and I felt I sang a little better, but she’s still good and probably much better with no cold. She sings pretty much all over, though usually not in the winter. She has a band and performs three weekends a month. I asked her how much she usually made a month, and she said $1,600. I don’t think she meant the whole band, either—that was just her money. She said she did an anniversary and made $200 in just three hours. Hey, I don’t care if it’s the shittiest pay as long as it’s singing and not doing nothing or doing something I hate.

Kathy, Bonny’s sister-in-law, trimmed my hair today. She did a great job, and she also did a great job on Bonny’s hair and her daughter’s hair. Kathy trimmed my bangs and a half-inch off the bottom. God, have I got split ends—probably 8 out of every 10 hairs are split, some up to six or seven times.

By the 23rd of this month, it’ll be 120 days since the police exam I took, so I guess I’ll be notified soon. I always knew I’d make a good cop, but I also figured that at the same time it wasn’t meant to be—not now, for sure, since there’s going to be a default warrant out for me because of Jenny’s shit on March 6th. As I said before, Jenny got all she deserved, and I’m not giving her the satisfaction of coming to court. Andy says the cops I know will take care of the warrant. I thought about that, but I can’t count on it. Most of all, I very well may have flunked that test—you know my math sucks.

I spoke to Jai and Jenny. Jenny’s now living with Jai on Mattoon St. I hope they like it, but I know Jai hates the landlord. I left a message for Debbie at PCS to call me. I spoke to her a few days ago and told her, with my “feelings,” that she was gay—and she is. She’s now on break.

11:07 PM

Andy came over stoned out of his mind but in a good mood. Tomorrow is Andy’s birthday; he’s going to be 29. I gave him a card and a bag of hard candy. He’s leaving next month, and he’s still saying how much he wants me to come with him. Of course, I wish I could go too, but I just can’t sell everything. Even though Jimmy offered to store my stuff in the new house he’s buying, he’s still not sure he’s getting the house, and it may not be for several more months.

I thought of calling Philip about storing my stuff but never bothered, figuring he’d say no.

2/15/1991 Fri. 5 AM

Brenda is a major crackhead. About three or four months ago, Bonny and Dave got her hooked on crack by tricking her into it. They, I guess, put it in a bowl without telling her what it was. I assume Brenda figured it was pot. Now, Bonny blames Dave for this, but I believe Brenda when she says Bonny knew exactly what Dave was doing. I know Bonny’s type, and she’s already proven herself a pathological liar to me, Andy, and other people.

Let me also say that ever since I confronted Bonny with her lies and offered her a “try” at beating my ass, she’s been a major sweetheart to me. I told her if she wanted to be nice, I’d be nice, and if she wanted to fight, we could do it at her place, my place, the hall, outside, or wherever.

So, anyway, as I was saying, Brenda smokes pot occasionally and used to do coke here and there, but quit two years ago. I know Brenda’s no liar and she knows she has a problem and wants to do something about it, but goddamn it, is that all I ever can get?! Don’t I deserve better for once? All I can get is dope heads, loud, obnoxious mental cases, or shy, geeky, wimpy-type mental cases. Damn, can’t I get anyone both emotionally and financially stable for once? And when—oh when—am I gonna get someone I’m really attracted to? I’m 25 years old, goddamn it. I want to feel that true sexual spark and overwhelming feeling for once. I’m bored with the so-so-looking ones. I feel I deserve my ideal type of person with the qualities I want. Of course, I’m not asking for Miss Perfect, but can’t I come close for once?

Other than Brenda’s problems—which are ten times worse than mine—she is a good person who’s far from ugly, and I know she still has true feelings for me, but I’m not stupid. She always comes over saying, “I miss you and I love you,” when she’s horny. She hardly comes over just to visit, and we never do nonsexual things together, and we never really talk. She’s too quiet, although she has been talking more. She told me she noticed I’m talking less and have changed a lot and that I don’t push her away as much. Then what did she do earlier? Yesterday, I mentioned I got my hair trimmed and said she did a good job, and Brenda went, “Yeah, but I’m not in the mood to talk about your hair.” I told her she’s been talking to me non-stop about the fights she and Bonny have been having for the last month or so, and I haven’t pushed her away or jumped down her throat. So, I got up and left, and she called me apologizing, saying she felt shitty from withdrawal.

I have fully accepted that I’ll never get first best, but damn, am I sick of second best! That’s why I’ve been spending so much time alone, too. There’s always way more bad than good when I get involved with someone, and there shouldn’t be. That’s how I know I’m with the wrong person. They say when you meet the right person, you’ll know it, and I believe that. I’ve met them—they’ve just been taken or not interested in me. Again, I either do it right or I don’t do it at all. Better to take care of yourself than to be taken care of by the wrong person.

2/17/1991 Sun. 1 AM

I am now in the ER waiting for Brenda to get her nose checked. It feels good to be here, not needing to be a patient for once. Brenda and Bonny were babysitting for Paul and Kathy's kids, and Brenda went to the store and got punched in the nose. She called me from Kathy's, asking if I would go to the ER with her. Naturally, I said yes since she’s taken me here before. While I was waiting, Andy came over. At first, we both thought she had gone to buy drugs and had been robbed or was just beaten up. According to Brenda, though, she went out to get cigarettes for her and Bonny when a guy approached her and she rolled down her window. I asked why, and she said she thought he might have been asking for directions. The guy insisted she buy drugs, she refused, and his girlfriend punched her in the nose. She also spat on her window, and as she tried to back out, her car stalled and the girl threw a bottle at her windshield. The windshield wasn’t broken, but something spilled on it.

Brenda insists she wouldn’t lie to me, Gail, or Bonny, and has mentioned that she does drugs. I was over earlier, and Gail was begging her to get high, and she refused. I don’t know why Brenda associates with people like Gail. Brenda says, “She’s got problems; you can’t push her away for that.” I said she could, especially if the girl is only out to hurt her and be a bad influence. Bonny agrees; Brenda’s friends will keep trying if she isn’t firm. It’s too bad Brenda’s wimpy and has this problem, because she’s such a good person. She deserves better and deserves to be better.

9:14 AM

Earlier, I was all set to go to bed but now I’m wide awake. I’ve had plenty of cigarettes, and I pray I don’t wake up sick.

While listening to music, a strange feeling came over me. I remembered the fire we had here a little over a year ago. Then, as I took off my headphones, I heard yelling and sirens. At first, I thought it was a drug bust, but I looked out the window and saw tons of fire trucks and smoke coming from a fourth-floor window. Firemen were on a huge ladder with hoses. It’s one of the major crack buildings on Locust St. near the Red Lion Café. I hope no kids or innocent people were hurt. I don’t think anyone was, and hopefully the building was evacuated. One less crack house on the street.

I’m going to try to get some sleep now. I want to be up by 5:00 or 6:00, so I have time to wake up, eat, and shower. Andy may come over, but I told him to call first; he'd better, because at 9:00 I’ll be watching a movie while taping another, and I can’t tape both at once.

Oh, one more thing: Kevin H got a subpoena today to appear in court on charges of annoying phone calls. That’s the name this phone is now using—Andy’s idea, choosing a name from one of the characters of Twin Peaks.

2/18/1991 Mon. 6:13 AM

Well, sure enough, but not surprisingly enough, I woke up with a bad attack yesterday. It wasn’t the worst attack, but it wasn’t very fun either. I had too many cigarettes. I didn’t get up till 7:00 because I kept waking up a billion times. I fell asleep near 10:00 yesterday morning, and if I had been able to sleep straight through, I’d have woken up at 5:00. It’s going to be a heck of a while before I fall asleep, and I’ve got Bill coming around 6:30 tonight.

I need to psych myself up to quit smoking again. I hate this feeling of having pressure on me and feeling like I can’t take control. These cigarettes have such power over me, and I don’t like it. But then again, look at all the other powers and controls I’ve had over other things. I don’t mean just psychic powers either. Speaking of psychic powers, it just gets weirder all the time. It’s developing more and more, and it’s almost too hard to believe and accept. My Nana Bella always told me that if you have a gift, don’t question it—just accept it and use it. I guess she’s right, and I have to consider my “bad vibes” as a gift when I remember the fire.

If I ever do run into Mark B, who set that fire, I don’t think he’d want to look in the mirror for quite a while.

2/19/1991 Tues. 6 AM

Not a whole heck of a lot has happened since I woke up last night at 7:00. I spoke to Brenda briefly, watched a movie while taping another, and talked with Steve.

I’m totally wiped out of food. I may go shopping this morning. Brenda’s going to take me, I guess.

Bonny says she’s moving on March 1st, and Brenda says she’s moving on April 1st. I feel like I’m losing everybody. Andy’s moving, Brenda’s moving, Jimmy’s moving. Before I know it, Steve will be moving, and I’ll be left behind with no one. I’ll be damned, though, if I’m going to move into a project. I don’t care if the neighborhood is better or not.

About singing—yeah, well, ha, ha. That Susan girl will no doubt not come through. I don’t think I can count on anything coming up with her. But will I ever be able to count on anything pertaining to music? Sometimes I wonder. I wonder how I can keep surviving, and when I’m gonna break down and lose my mind. I have absolutely nothing to look forward to or live for. If there is truly a God, I can’t even compromise with him. I prayed for him to take away the right woman and a baby if he must, but to please let me break into the music business. Why was I dumb enough to keep hoping and believing in the first place? I keep telling myself there’s no way and why, but the vision won’t go away. Why? Why, oh why, oh why? What’s left for me now?

I wish Nervous would call me. I really miss him despite his mouth and his attitude. I haven’t seen Nervous for many, many months. I called him at the Bucket of Suds Laundromat. He still works at Feinstein’s Leather, too. For the last couple of months that I’ve called him—by myself or with Fran or Andy—he’s hung up instantly on us, but this time he spoke to me. I simply told him I was sincere about wanting him to visit me and that any shit I’d pulled in the past had been because of his mouth and his attitude. I never hated Nervous—just some of his ways. To tell the truth, I miss that sucker. I think back to the days when he was in the worst of his obsession with me on Oswego St., and it really was funny. I had a lot of fun playing with his head, and everyone knows he enjoyed it too. Anyone not enjoying it wouldn’t have stuck around as long as he did.

What made him flee, though, was definitely Andy. He got tired of competing with him, and he knew he could never mean to me what Andy does. And you know Andy and I have had our share of problems, too. Another thing is how I finally let him start meeting my girlfriends, if you know what I mean. I miss playing “dead phone line” with him and also the cross-call-waiting game. I wish I could make things like they used to be with him for a while and then get rid of him once I started getting really sick of him again. True, there’s only so much of the guy I can take before I want to kill him.

I want to get some more really heated-up fights over the phone with him and Fran so I can tape them. I need more edits of him. The old ones are classics, and I’ll always love them and find them funny as all hell, but it’s time for new ones. Nervous never liked his edits. He just never had that kind of sense of humor, even if they were never played for his boss, among other people. But then again, maybe he would. It’s not as if he has no sense of humor. Of course, Nervous is not the type to make prank phone calls, other than the calls he made to me. He never said anything, though. It was simply a case of wanting to hear the girl’s voice that he was so obsessed with: to see if I’m home, who I’m with, what I might say. But to call people with funny last names, people you hate, or just dial random numbers—no way. It just wasn’t in him.

I can say I’m really quite proud of myself for sticking with something besides music or music-related projects for so long. I’ve been keeping journals since 10/27/1987. I was 21 years old. In fact, I think I’m going to go read back to kill time.

2/20/1991 Wed. 2 AM

I feel shitty, so I’m not going to write much. I couldn’t fall asleep until almost noon yesterday, and I had to get up at 6:00. An hour later, I went grocery shopping. I’ve felt very groggy all day—or night, I should say.

Kim called about a vacancy next door to her. She’s going to talk to the owner, but it’ll no doubt be too expensive.

I’m dead tired, so I’m going to bed now.

2/23/1991 Sat. 1:45 AM

I have got the news of my life!!! The news I’ve been waiting for for 25 years! I got into that band with Susie!!! Yes, I really, really did! I feel as if I’m dreaming such a fantastic dream that I can’t wake up from, but this is all real. It’s really happening. The band’s name is ERA, and there are five people in the band besides Susie and me as the singers. She’s going to be taking me to a recording studio to meet the other band members. When she’s going to do this, I don’t know. She’s going to call me. They perform 2–3 nights a week starting March 9th, and she said I could expect to earn $600 a month on average. That’s $1,221 a month, counting my SS and Bill!

I called everyone about it, including Tammy, Mom, Andy, Brenda, Steve, Philip, and Martha. Next, I’ve got to tell Jai and Jimmy.

Believe it or not, I’m not done with the good news, so let me now mention that I saw Kim’s apartment. Man, is it huge!

I spent the day with her and her husband, Mark, who’s a cop in the town of Greenfield. They live in South Deerfield. I felt an unusual yet immediate comfort with him and felt as if I’d known him for years, like with Kim. Many people have told me that they’ve felt as if they’d known me for years, but you know me. I feel as though I can truly say that about someone once in a lifetime. Then again, I also know someone’s character the second I lay eyes on them. Besides psychic vibes, I’ve had a lot of experiences.

2/25/1991 Mon. 9:37 AM

Due to being up for 21½ hours the last time I wrote, I never got to write more of my good news. Yes, believe it or not, I’ve got two fantastic things to share. If all goes well with both, this will be my year for record-breaking luck and happiness—things finally going my way. I deserve it, and I have a good feeling about both. Once again, I know I can count on my feelings.

I even called Anna about my good news, and she was happy for me and said she’d like to get together. I told Jim and Jai, too. Steve said, “What did I always tell you about wanting to be a singer? I told you it would all work out.” He also said it was so nice to see me happy. It’s great to finally feel this way. My horoscope hinted at this the day before Susie told me I was in the band, and now it’s hinting at the so-called relationship coming up in mid-March. That’s what the psychic astrologer said over the phone. I think maybe Steve can foresee things too, as he said he feels I’ll hit the peak of fame by 1996, and then afterward I’ll meet the “right” woman. I never told Steve that year was the one I felt would be mine, as well as the psychic astrologer. He also always said he felt I’d move before him, and I may very well be moving—I’m 80% sure of it. That’s my other good news, but I have something to say first about my predictions. I’m always either right or very, very close. I always had a feeling I’d get in a band by accident, when I least expected it, and I always felt it might happen at home. Since I’m a homebody 95% of the time, fate would lead it to me at my door, and I’d take it from there. I was right all along.

10:51 AM

I took a quick break to talk to Brenda, have a bite to eat, and smoke a cigarette, but I forgot to mention speaking to Mary D. I called and said, “What’s up, butch?”

She said, “Who’s this?”

I said, “Just because it’s been a long time, do you think I’ve forgotten what happened?” I expected her to start screaming at me, cussing, or threatening me, but she was friendly. I know it was sincere and not a trap.

She said it was done and over with and just wanted to be friendly. I said if she wanted to fight, I’d fight her, but if she wanted to be friends, fine. I’ve got to call her back Tuesday night and simply tell her what I wasn’t able to say years ago. I’m just not into butches as lovers. Being friends is one thing, but if they’re in my bed, they must be feminine.

The night I made prank calls to her while Margaret, her sister, was in the hospital in labor was wrong, and I can see if she came over to yell at me to knock it off, but you don’t try to beat someone up and trash their apartment over that. Of course, I’d have defended myself. Mary knows I did not hurt her; I simply restrained her. If she’d come back a second time, I would have defended myself further.

Ok, now on to my other good news. As I mentioned before, I feel as if I’ve known Kim for years—and her husband too. I’ve only known her for a few months, but if I gave her my keys to take care of Shadow while I was away, I know I could trust her.

She knows how desperately I want to move and why I decided not to go to Arizona or Connecticut, and now I have the band too. One day, she told me to come see her place, which is one of only two apartments on the top floor of a three-story office building. She said the guy could easily ask for $1,000 if he wanted, but because of who they are in town, I could have it for $525. Jesus, you’ve got to see this place to believe it! I thought my place was huge and beautiful, but my place is a joke compared to this. It’s 1,200 square feet with a washer and dryer, Jacuzzi, dishwasher, trash compactor, central AC, burglar alarm, sprinklers, and a microwave better than mine. Everything’s glamorously modern, not just plain modern, with skylights too. Everything’s electric, and I assumed the heating bill would be $50–$100 a month, especially with cathedral ceilings, but she showed me both her electric and heating bills—they’re both around $23. I know I’d be saving on the monthly phone charge since they don’t offer 3-way, call waiting, or call forwarding out in Deerfield.

I called Tammy and told her about it, and she seemed interested. I told her everything I just wrote. Deerfield is 40 minutes away. It’s like Longmeadow, where everyone knows your name, but it doesn’t have the stuck-up attitude of most ritzy towns.

2/26/1991 Tues. 7:50 AM

God, that apartment has so many features that, reading back a few pages, I realized I forgot one—ceiling fans.

I’ll write more about the apartment later, but first, I passed the police officer exam! Can you believe it—I scored 81%?! I wasn’t sure how I did, especially with how I struggle with math. Sue even said not to be upset if I failed since those are tough tests to pass.

Everyone’s asking what’s next, and I guess it’s just waiting—seeing what they say and, if I move, what they’ll decide.

That night at Kim and Mark’s place, Kim played the piano, and I sang and played too. Kim is an amazing piano player. I’d listen to her play songs without looking, then show her how I play by ear. She’d play songs while I sang along—it was a lot of fun. After a great home-cooked dinner, we went to the Hampshire Mall. At first, I told myself, you can look, but you can’t buy. Then I thought, wait a minute, I’m not buying a new stereo yet. I just got into a band that looks promising. I haven’t bought anything but Gloria’s new CD since last August. Fuck this—I’m going shopping!

Perfect timing, too—I got a fantastic deal on a beautiful party dress, or evening dress as you’d call it. It’s perfect for performing. It was regularly $54, down to $10, and it’s a little big. It’s a 7/9, though I’m a 3/5, but for $10, I’ll make it fit. I’ve got to hem the sleeves and take it in at the bust, since I’m so small, but it fits fine at the waist. I also bought a red skirt with a wide black belt—the ruffled kind I like—and two pretty journals at a really nice price.

2/28/1991 Thurs. 12:51 PM

I’m so bored, impatient, and excited! I want to hurry up and check out that apartment. I hope Peter, the owner, whose cousin is undecided, gives the place to me—I know I want it for sure. I don’t know if I remembered to write about this before, but his cousin, who’s getting divorced, saw the place and may be interested. I hope not.

Yesterday, Kim spoke to Peter, who said his cousin was still undecided and needed another day or two. That may be a good sign—his being undecided. Hopefully, he’ll go back to his wife and kids or maybe move out of state. Kim, however, seems to think he’s more on our side and would never have bothered to discuss it with us or have us come see it if I didn’t stand a chance. Let’s hope his cousin made up his mind for the better today!

I also hope the guy who’s in there now moves out before April 1st—the sooner, the better.

All I’ll have to take care of, besides physically moving, will be SS, the bank, fuel assistance, and whatever happens with the police exam I passed. I also need to follow up on my doctor’s appointments, which I should have done a long time ago. I’ll need a new asthma doctor, and I need to see a GYN for this recurring yeast infection. I also need a dental checkup and need to call fuel assistance to find out what’s going on with my checks. I really need them, and I’m sick of waiting.