Sunday, November 22, 1998

I’m just one day away from my appointment, but I’m not nervous. I should be, though, I suppose, since most people are when it comes to seeing new doctors. I told God, “I’m confused. I don’t know what you want from me. Do you want me to get tested? Should I get tested? Show me the way.” I believe he will. The more something’s meant to be, the more the way is paved for you with fewer obstacles. If it’s not meant to be, you’ll be blocked. Maybe make sure that Tom doesn’t cooperate like he said he would? Cuz that’d end it all right then and there as far as testing goes. I’ll quit right then and there. I’m going to this doctor to deal with why I’m sterile. Not why he won’t cum.

I keep saying my appointment with Melanie is on the 29th, but in truth, it’s on the 30th.

Tom said they only made one quick run across the street yesterday. Well, that explains why I haven’t heard the dog. It’s not here yet. He said he saw them today, too, but again, they obviously aren’t gonna be all moved in today either, cuz I don’t hear no dog. If they don’t have a dog, I guarantee you they’ll be getting one within a month. I don’t have a bad vibe about them, and things always quiet down as I get close to making a move, but 9 out of 10 houses have dogs, so why not?

I wonder what God will compensate me with when we move. There’ll be no noise/neighbors to stress out over, and he won’t replace neighborly noise with child noise since he knows I can’t handle that, so what will he do? Give me health problems? Time will tell.

At around 9:30 this morning, the cock was on the street. Why would he only park in the driveway that one Sunday only? Maybe cuz he was too lazy to haul laundry to the street, and maybe cuz it knew it’d be here all day and coming and going a lot.

I was amazed to weigh 115 pounds yesterday at the end of my day and after being stuck for two days. I woke up at 113 pounds, though, and took a dump.

I forgot to mention a couple of other things about Andy. He went into the studio where Stevie does her recording and offered to clean the place which was trashed. He found a tape that said Stevie soundboard something and he stole it. He said the quality of it was great and sounded better than any CD he’d ever heard. So now he’s trying to get a job volunteering to clean in there so he can see her work.

Another thing he said that I got a kick out of was, “If I have AIDS, I won’t let anyone else touch me, but I’m gonna be the biggest slut I’ve always fantasized about being.”

Later…

No freeloader shit. Like I said, they’re gonna wait till he’s done before they let us have it right back. All I saw was that light blue car and a tall, skinny, black lady with a cap on getting into the car and leaving. Never have I seen a white person visit them. They’re not good enough for most of them to be visiting anyway, even if most people are assholes, no matter what the color.

There is one thing I do dread about tomorrow. Not the appointment itself or the doctor, but all the waiting I’ll have to do. I know this waiting room is gonna be the opposite of Melanie’s. It’s gonna be filled with pregnant teens that’ll piss me off and tons of screaming kids, and I’ll have to wait for a half-hour or more till seeing the doctor. I’m not looking forward to that at all, so I’ll take a puzzle book since I won’t be able to concentrate on reading.

Saturday, November 21, 1998

What a stupid thing to do. Yesterday I was stuck and I took a water pill cuz I felt all bloated and watery, but the day after taking a water pill I can’t shit. So now I have to be stuck two days in a row, whereas I probably could’ve shit today if I didn’t take the water pill yesterday.

Another stupid thing to do was to tell Andy in a message I left him to wait till we can talk live next week before he calls since it’ll just be a busy weekend around here as usual. Sure enough, what’s he do? He goes and calls anyway. Must he go and call just so he can say he went and did the opposite of what I told him? Why are people so obsessed with doing the opposite?

Later…

It looks like Mary may care about Tom’s roofing adventures. She called and left a message while I was talking to Andy, which I’ll get into later, and said she was just checking to see how he was, call when he gets a minute.

What do you really want Mary? What do you really want? Computer work? Car work? Plumbing? Stuff your own husband could and should learn to do for you if he wasn’t so lazy?

As for the roof - the old roof is all stripped off now and now Tom’s hammering the new shingles on. Something the freeloaders can hear loud and clear. I’ll bet you anything that next weekend, or the weekend after, I’ll be hearing from them for this, but fuck them. We needed a new roof and if they can’t handle that, they’ll get theirs for it.

El Cocko was parked on the street at 9:30 this morning, Tom told me. All I saw when I went to look out front was him in a red sports shirt and a backward cap leaning in the front seat of the car. Then he went back to the house. Then a few minutes later he got in the car and left. I don’t think anyone was with him. Mistake could’ve been, but I don’t know for sure.

Why was he parked in the street on a Saturday, though? Maybe the city only takes off Sundays when dealing with their subsidized houses and checking up on them. Now that they know this bitch’s broken at least two rules (cock/dog) they’ll be keeping a closer eye on her.

Tom and I talked about hiring someone to come in and clean up all the nails and roof bits that are all over the sides of the house, but that’d take money away from paying bills. Also, they’d probably do a half-assed job.

Now I’ll get into what’s going on with Andy. Well, he’s really miserable again. God, he’s so much like I used to be. Just an occasional bout of happiness, then it’s the same old, same old again. Will he ever get out of the rut he’s been in?

Anyway, after I saw him leave two calls in a row with his name showing, I picked up knowing something was wrong and that he needed to bitch. I told him to show his name when it’s urgent.

He hasn’t broken down and gotten stoned yet, but he bought some weed since he feels it’s inevitable that he’ll break down sooner or later. He also said that it’s a really good kind of weed that only comes around for a short time every handful of years. I didn’t know there were different kinds of weed.

Tom and I were wondering how he could manage to get time off to go to California when he just started a new job. So I asked Andy about it today and he told me that with temp agencies, you work when you want and make your own schedule. All you have to do is give a week’s notice.

The plan was that Laura would take Andy’s car to New Mexico to spend Thanksgiving with her family. Then Michelle’s mom and boyfriend would drive to San Diego on the 22nd and go to the boyfriend’s family’s house. The next day Michelle and Andy would go there in Michelle’s car. They’d stay in San Diego for two days, then go up to L.A. for a day, then home. Now Andy’s pissed cuz he cleared time off from both the temp agency and Red Lobster to go, but he may not be going after all. Michelle’s car got broken into. They broke windows and stole her CD player. So, who knows if he’s going?

The thing about it is that he doesn’t have to worry about clearing time from the temp agency after all cuz he no longer has that job. Just a part-time job at Red Lobster for pitiful money.

Andy says he’s so pissed at himself and wonders when he’s gonna learn to keep his mouth shut. Yup, you got it. Andy got fired for talking too much yet again! He admits to his big mouth, but once again, God and society’s double standards really piss him off. It’s OK for the girl to his left to talk about her suicide attempts, and it’s OK for the girl to the right to talk about how miserable her kids and husband make her, but when the gay guy speaks up, it’s not acceptable!

So he went off on his boss about it and left a picture of a guy in boxers on his desk that he tore out of a Rolling Stone magazine he was reading. Then he called for a second chance and was told by the woman he talked to that she heard he left a picture of a naked guy on his desk. So that pissed him off cuz the guy in the picture was not naked. Then he says, “See? When people don’t like you or are mad at you, they twist the truth, exaggerate, and get into all-out lying.” Yes, I know very well. I’ve seen Dureen, Art, Larry, Tammy, and many others do this.

Then he goes to this other agency and gets told that there’s nothing available when he knows there is. He thought about it and thought about it, then realized he looked like an IV user cuz of the blood test they did to check for AIDS which left a black and blue mark on his arm.

Yeah, I guess Marla, who’s been super busy, talked him into getting an AIDS test. He’s got to wait till around my birthday for the results and he’s terrified. He said he had a dream that the test was positive, and he couldn’t believe it. Andy always practiced safe sex until Quinn. With Quinn, he wouldn’t use rubbers cuz he hates them. He’s pissed at himself not only for opening his mouth at work but for having unsafe sex and giving in to anal sex like he swore he never would. He said he let Quinn cum up his ass. The most dangerous thing to do, and that the bible says is a sin. I reminded Andy not to jump the gun, though, and assume the test is positive. Also, don’t believe everything you read. I could write a book saying being tall is a sin, but that doesn’t make me right. I told him what’s done is done and I don’t think any kind of sex is a sin as long as those involved are of age and willing.

Later…

A white car just came in and honked, but it’s a different one. Not the one with the thick black trim. It’s been 5 minutes, but no one’s gotten out of that car. What? Did it pull in, honk, then go up to the door? It couldn’t have just gone up to the door? What was that honk saying? Was it saying something like, “Yeah, I hear you with all your hammering? But next weekend or the weekend after, you’ll be hearing us.”

Well if I do, they’ll just keep on hearing me and we’ll keep on going back and forth till they either shut up or get evicted.

Tom was on the roof when this car pulled in and he said he heard voices. I didn’t hear them yelling this time around, though.

As I was saying about Andy - he said he’s a very angry man now and that if he finds out he has AIDS, he’s gonna destroy Quinn’s memory by telling everyone he and Quinn were an item (only a few know) and then he’s gonna track down this girl who he believes gave Quinn AIDS, and beat the fuck out of her. See, Quinn was a major druggie and a slut. Andy’s the only guy he made it with, though, except for his brother who molested him. There were rumors saying that a girl Quinn made it with between his time with Andy, had AIDS and didn’t tell Quinn till afterward. In fact, Andy wondered if Quinn killed himself cuz he found out he had AIDS. Quinn was also just plain old miserable and was looking at jail time, too, for the drugs, but only Quinn knew for sure why he did what he did, and as cruel as it may sound, I commend Quinn for killing himself and God for allowing him to do so. This world doesn’t need people like Quinn. I told Andy that having AIDS isn’t a death sentence anymore, although he thinks it is. They have medications for that that’ll sustain his life and they’re on the verge of a cure, too. He can get treatment and therapy for free since he’s poor. Thank God for this, too. He also told me he might ignore me for a while if it’s positive out of shame and all the emotions he’ll have over it. I told him it’s fine to need time alone but to remember he can call me if he needs to talk. I told him to let his name show on the box like he did today if it’s urgent and be anonymous if he’s just calling to say hi.

He’s gonna have to go out for the hundredth time job-hunting, but at least he has the money for next month’s rent set aside, so all he has to come up with is money for bills.

Michelle goes by astrology when predicting things, I go by instinct and the feelings that come to me. Well, according to Andy, Michelle knows her stuff and is always right. One of the things Michelle predicts is that she and David won’t cut it together because Leo and Aquarius don’t mix. Well, I don’t know if that’s the reason, but all the Gemini and Leo women I’ve known are assholes, but I don’t know about guys. Incidentally, Dureen’s a Gemini, and Tammy’s a Leo. Anyway, the reason I don’t see them working out is that Andy’s not meant to have a loving relationship. It’s just not meant to be any more than I was ever meant to be a singer or a mother.

Andy says he still wants to try his best to make the relationship with Dave work out, but there are a couple of things Dave does that really pisses him off. He asks questions, and then when Andy goes to answer, he cuts him off and interrupts constantly. So Andy did it back to him and he got pissed. Andy’s like - how do you like it? Andy also hates how he’s so “Brenda-ish.” He’s possessive and jealous and Andy’s afraid he’ll smother him. As Andy said, though, if he and Dave don’t work out, he can always go live with one of his brothers. It’s not like he knows no one there.

I’ll be sending him an encouraging, inspirational letter sometime soon, cuz I know how much those things really cheer him up.

Later…

Am I going deaf? I can’t complain, but I didn’t hear the white car leave. No doors, no engine, no nothing. That tells me that she didn’t leave in this car since she and her little cock were always the biggest door slammers around here. Well, it is hard to hear over all the hammering.

Tom just tore his second pair of shorts on nails. He’s now wearing one of his two pairs of long denim pants that he wears to work.

He returned Mary’s call and spoke to her and Mom about how the roof was going. Mary didn’t get into it, but they found bad things with the thyroid they took out. She has an appointment coming up and so does Ma. They’re gonna get their own rides, though, cuz I have an appointment on Monday. They didn’t hit him for computer work, but they will when he’s done.

He says Eileen’s probably gonna make up for the little cupcake payment he got for doing the daughter’s computer when he gets around to taking care of hers. Eileen pays him fairly, so that’s good.

It looks like sex will be postponed until next weekend, which is OK with me. Tom brought up something I almost brought up, but I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and think I was trying to get out of sex. He suggested we don’t screw till after my appointment, so it doesn’t interfere with the pap. Normally I’d say that he was making excuses, but no, this is a great, sensible idea.

Later…

Bill’s here now. What’s he doing here on a Saturday?

Actually, he just left. I know the sound of that car starting up very well now. It’s weird for a Caddy, but it makes a coughing sound as its starter catches. It left without the bitch, so she ought to be home still and listening to all Tom’s hammering.

Later…

The renters are here, and to my utter amazement, they don’t seem to have a dog. Yet. They will soon enough, though. From what Tom could see, it was a couple with a 5-year-old girl. I guess this is good. Then I don’t have to worry about college kids or teenagers banging in and out, or basketball games. They don’t have a hoop over there, but those things can always be bought.

He also says that at the old man’s house on the other corner, there’s a woman and kids living there. The guy’s still there, though, so who knows who these people are? Maybe they were the trailer people and they decided to move in and ditch the trailer. I saw a woman with screaming kids in the street the other day, but if they’re living there, why don’t I hear them? From what I saw, there were 2-3 little ones, and that’s major noise, so why don’t I hear them all day long when I’m up? Maybe because the garage separates our houses, along with the street.

Later…

Tom accidentally cut his finger while cutting paper, so I gave him a Band-Aid.

You have to put down felt paper on the bare wooden roof before you put the shingles down. He’s on the fun, quick, and easy part now. Stapling down the paper. Then he’ll be nailing down the shingles, but the shingles are big, so it won’t need 10,000 nails. He still feels he’ll be done tomorrow, but we may need to keep the dumpster past Monday for our clean-up job. For our cleaning, he’s gonna go look for this magnetic rake they have that’d be great for picking up the millions of nails that are around the house from the three asinine layers that were there.

Later…

Still no mail. Is he late? Or did he give our mail to someone else?

It’s dead quiet at the old man’s house, so maybe the woman and kids were just visiting.

Later…

I guess the bitch did leave in that white car. Tom saw her being dropped off from that car a little while ago.

Tom’s heading to Sears in a little while to pick up some more stuff we’ll need.

I’m just gonna relax and read for the evening.

Friday, November 20, 1998

Woke up at 115 pounds, since I had KFC yesterday and more. I always go back to 115.

Got a letter from Kim, cuz her computer is fucked up. She and Walt are moving into a big duplex house in Northampton. Just what is the story with her and Walt? Did Walt conveniently decide he wants kids just to hang onto Kim? Or is Kim OK with his not wanting kids and willing to give that up?

Anyway, since she sent me a regular letter, I’ll send her one too, using our wedding picture bordering the paper.

I took the four remaining Christmas cards I have and made one out to Mary & Dave, Mom, Steven & Carol, and David & Evie.

I never want a damn thing again to do with Nora, Ray, Ryan, Jackie, Jim, or Pam. The only reason I associate with Mary, Dave, and Mom still is out of respect for Tom. Meanwhile, Steven, Carol, David, and Evie never did anything to us. Neither did Ryan, Ray, or Nora, but I just don’t want to bother with anyone connected to the Jackie, Jim, and Pam clan. I don’t dislike Mary and Dave, although as with Mom, I resent how they’ve used Tom. Mary and I have things in common (rodents/sterility) and Dave’s funny and cool to be around.

Tom got a dumpster extension. They were supposed to get it today, but he’s keeping it till Monday. We thought they’d charge $100 for the overtime, but nope. Just $5 a day.

He says he’ll be done on Sunday, but I don’t know. Then he says we can get on with life. Yeah, for two weeks.

I printed out some more stuff for the freeloaders and their stuff will have to go in two manila envelopes. Not cuz there are too many papers but cuz the pages fit snuggly into the envelopes and leave no room for the wire binder. So I had to trim the edges of the pages to make them fit into the envelope.

Tom says it’s no wonder my lungs still get tight and congested. He said it’s big-time polluted out there. Worse than L.A. He says I should improve when we move. Well, I hope so, cuz yesterday when I was singing, I’d swear I still smoked if I didn’t know any better. And I was wondering again why God ever bothered to give me the voice in the first place if I can’t fully enjoy it. I have to stop and keep clearing my fucking throat. I never would’ve quit smoking if I’d known it’d make me so fat and not help me more than it has, although it does save us money, and since quitting, I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or not, I stopped wishing we could have more sex and stopped wanting a child. Maybe it’s that I’m used to not counting on full-time sex with this guy and maybe it’s just because I know a kid’s not meant to be, but my life truly has improved in other ways since quitting smoking, and I wheeze my ass off, so I won’t complain.

Later…

Tom tore off 3,000 pounds of roofing. When he’s done there’ll be 1,000 pounds of roofing. The stupid idiot males who lived here throughout the years put layers of roofing on. There are three layers. That’s how and why things got so fucked up with it. Women should do more of these kinds of things. They’re smarter. But Tom’s as smart as most women. In fact, I think we’re both smarter than most people, female or male, so we’ll figure it out.

A guy driving by got out and asked Tom if he does roofs. He said only on his own house he does.

He may get promoted to bossing people around instead of bossing work around, which he kind of doesn’t want. He’d rather boss work than people, and he doesn’t want to be locked in for another year like he would be if he got promoted in that way, and he still wants days. These would be 2nd and 3rd shifts. He doubts he’ll get this promotion, though, cuz the others who are eligible have been there longer. But are they as good as he is?

Tom saw both dogs two yards down. He says they’re both collies. Why are their barks different then? He says it’s not just cuz of the chain-link fence that causes them to bark so much, is the house’s location too. They can see all the way down another alley that we couldn’t see from our yard if we had a see-through fence of some kind. The alley’s sort of L-shaped. Well, they’re on the corner of the L. So they can see a lot more to get stirred up over than a dog could in our yard if we didn’t have all block walls. I wonder why it is that we have all block walls, the freeloaders have all block walls (although they have a double gate and not a single gate in the very back by the alley), but these assholes have a chain-link fence in the back. Only their sidewalls are block walls.

I’m doing laundry now and hanging out the heavier stuff since our dryer’s sort of wimpy. The washer’s small and the dryer’s wimpy, but when we move, we’ll have a regular size and strength washer and dryer.

Later…

Bill must’ve gotten called away for something pretty important today. I didn’t hear any of this, except for the honk, but from what Tom could see on the roof, a light blue car dropped the bitch off at 11:00. Then Bill left. Then Bill returned a few minutes later. Then the blue car returned, honked, and the bitch left in it. The blue car’s probably some coworker.

The cock didn’t visit last night.

Thursday, November 19, 1998

Another day of Tom stripping the roof. As I predicted, he doesn’t think he’ll be done stripping today. He told me he realized that although he doesn’t want anyone putting the new roof on since they probably wouldn’t do it right, he should’ve at least paid the money to have someone come and strip it and haul the old roof away. Well, it’s too late now. All that hard work and mess and clean-up are on him. I offer to help him with picking up roof bits and nails, but he brushes me off. He said I could help with the stuff at the side of the house, but not for long since the dust isn’t good for me. I have a feeling part of the reason he doesn’t want me working in the front is cuz he worries I might attack the bitch. I wouldn’t do that unless she came on our property or threatened me from hers.

He’s gonna have to keep the dumpster till Monday, rather than Friday.

He said he doesn’t think the back room was added on in the 70s as he originally thought. This whole subdivision was built in 1950. He thinks that the back room’s been there all along and that it was one of those extra things that were optional that people could pay extra for if they wanted.

I had a flash vibe of me being 110 by February. In the past, I’d have been thrilled to know this, but now it kind of worries me. It takes the body about a year to adapt to major changes. It’s been just over a year since I quit smoking and it seems my old metabolism is poking through more and more. Well I awoke at 112½ pounds today, and we’ll just have to see if I lose more weight or not, but if I do, am I gonna have to pay for it in some not-so-cool kind of way? I’ll tell you one thing for sure and that’s that if I had to choose between not wanting a child and being 125 pounds, and wanting one at 100 pounds, I’d take the 125 pounds and the not wanting that. I don’t ever want to return to my days of obsessively dreaming about the impossible. I only want material dreams from here on out cuz I can make material dreams come true in time. If my dream was to find a million dollars in the street, that’d be different, but I’ve never had such a dream like that eat at me year after year day after day and I’m sure I’d have to become a whole different person for me to dream such a far-out dream as that. Even my old dream of becoming a famous singer wasn’t as far out as that would be.

I asked Tom why he didn’t bring up adoption or foster kids. He said that although he disagreed with those judging others by their ages or their pasts, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that adopting would be a problem cuz of his age, and fostering would be a problem cuz of my record. Personally, I never had a desire to adopt or foster, thank God. I guess I’m just one of those who felt that if she wasn’t gonna have her own kid, she didn’t want anybody else’s, but that’s just me. There’s nothing wrong with those who adopt or foster, though, as long as they’re not like the second foster mother I had was. She lied to me and starved me, and her sick friend threatened me and scared the shit out of me. It’s a miracle I got out of there without her beating me to death. Or close to it.

I’m recharging my vibrator batteries now. They’re great cuz it’s like having the same batteries that last and last and last. I used to worry about my sex drive going up in time, too, but since I’d rather take care of my own orgasms, and since I don’t want a child and can’t conceive one anyway, it’s OK if my appetite goes up, cuz I can take care of it myself, and Tom’s busyness and my schedule won’t be a problem if it goes up again like it was a problem the last time it was up.

Speaking of schedules, I went to bed just after midnight again and got up at 8:00. I had to read a good 4 hours or so before going to bed to relax and tire me down. I might sleep later tomorrow though, cuz Tom, who has to get off the roof at 4:00 to sleep 7 hours before going to work, won’t get home till around noon tomorrow.

I should have no problem getting to the doctor’s Monday. It’s Melanie’s appointment a week after that that I question.

I hope we can take a shot at doing those T-shirts soon enough, and also, I’d like to go to the library to see what Ruby books they’ve got and to check out doll-making books. I might want to take their doll-making class someday if I can keep a schedule long enough to do so. I wonder how long and how often the class is? It was something like $50-$60 for the sign language classes and they went 8-10 weeks.

I commented to Tom how I was surprised Bill and Mistake didn’t hang out in the yard more. Tom said that he’s really old so he couldn’t keep up with it, nor would he be likely to even want to hang outside. I’m surprised I don’t hear that animal screaming all day, but I guess they don’t even open their windows over there.

Later…

It’s a bit cloudy out, but there’s no threat of rain over the next 5 days or so, according to the weather channel.

I was out getting my daily dose of color till the headphones began producing static. They’re great, though. No wires, no commercials, then you just charge them back up. No constant need to change dying batteries.

Later…

I was bored shitless for a while there, but I guess I should get into some writing now.

Tom went out and got himself something to eat and I got KFC. I’m making a pot of tea now.

Bill and Mistake were seen by Tom coming and going earlier, but the cock hasn’t shown up today. Yet. I’ll bet he will later. Yes, he was here again yesterday. From 7:00-7:45 last night.

Tom’s opinion is that he found religion and that’s why he’s been quiet even when he’s parked on the street, and he’s coming around more to see the kid. I highly doubt it. I think it’s her he’s coming to see and I think it’ll just be a matter of time before he starts pushing and testing and going back to his old shit whether or not he lives here again. If he does move back in, though, he’s gonna have to park on the street during business hours. However, I’ve already decided the day he moved out last July that we’d never again be neighbors and that’s final. He is not welcomed here, he does not belong here, he is not wanted here, and he cannot live here as far as I’m concerned. Not that the bitch is anymore welcomed, wanted, or a snuggly fit in this neighborhood either, but I can tolerate her existence while we’re still here so long as there’s no shit from her or her friends, cuz if there is, she’s gotta go too.

Later…

Tom’s gonna be wrapping it up soon for the day so he can get some sleep before work.

He said he was surprised his Ma didn’t call to ask how the roof was going.

Maybe she doesn’t care.

Wednesday, November 18, 1998

Bill’s back today. I’ll bet you that cock won’t come in for lunch today, but we’ll see. I never heard any car doors yesterday picking her up or dropping her off, so I think she was home yesterday. She also had her lawn done just as the sun was setting by a black, a Hispanic, and a tall white dude with long hair. It could’ve been two blacks or two Hispanics, but anyway, the white guy got pissed at either one of the other guys he was working with or someone in the house, but I couldn’t tell for sure from my spying angle. I couldn’t make out anything that was said either. Just “Ay, ay, ay!” as the guy walked from the front of the house where their front door is, into the carport, then into the back.

So, I think she was home and the cock only came in for lunch cuz she was there. I doubt she was home cuz she couldn’t get a ride either, cuz couldn’t the cock have chauffeured her? Maybe she was sick or hurt or something like that. Wouldn’t it be great if yesterday was a case of karma where this bitch who normally adores noise, couldn’t stand to listen to Tom bang around yesterday while she was trying to read, watch TV, or even nap?

Someone was spraying for bugs across the street in the rental yesterday, but you know what? Here I am worrying about potential Mormons, dogs, or rowdy college kids with stereos, but what about the house next door where that cop used to live? It looks like he moved out a while ago, but who’s living there now? Nothing’s changed within that house. It’s still quiet. So did just the cop move out? Or did the whole household move? Are there new people in there now?

Tom said he saw one of the dogs two houses down and said that the reason they bark so much is cuz they got a chain-link fence. Yeah, I know that’s part of it. That’s why I really dread the renters moving in cuz they have a chain-link fence that wraps around to their front, so we can hear their new dog(s) loud and clear. It’d be like it was in its front yard barking and it’s just across the street from us, although anything’s better than just a few feet away. At least it won’t be just outside three of our windows.

Anyway, Tom says he only saw one of the dogs, which was a collie, and says those aren’t guard dogs. Whatever. All I know is that they bark way too fucking much and they’re lucky we’re moving. Real, real, real fucking lucky!

Got up at 8:30 today at 114 pounds. Tom got a late start and didn’t get up on the roof till 10:00 cuz he was picking up my meds and looking for stamps which nobody seems to have.

Tom called in and found out that there’s a number you can call to see if you’ve been dismissed from jury duty. Well, first they postponed him from today to tomorrow, and now they don’t want him in till February 8th.

Later…

OK, this is the third day in a row that that cock has shown up next door and I don’t like it. Both of us never thought he’d be in for lunch today cuz she’s not there. He never comes over when just Bill’s here. Unless she’s in there sick and Bill’s tending to her, which I highly doubt, I worry that he’s on the brink of coming back, although I don’t vibe it. Let him dare to come back, though, cuz he’ll be sorry!

Today and yesterday I’ve been working on getting some color since I’m practically as white as I was when I first came here. Tom came out to tell me they were recarpeting next door and I was like - fuck! Tell the city to come recarpet our house for nothing! Then he came back a few minutes later saying it looked like they were just cleaning their carpet and not replacing it. There’s a white van out there now, but no writing on it. No city emblem or anything.

Later…

Yeah, there is writing on the van. A limb of the tree was blocking it at first, but there’s small writing on the bottom of the driver’s door. All it says is: Operated by Metrolink, Scottsdale, AZ

Cock’s gone now.

Later…

The van was gone when I last checked at 12:45.

Wow! I actually got a little color. Since I have to be on days for the next two weeks, I may as well take advantage of it and sit outside and do my word find puzzles for a while every day. Putting baby oil on really helps, too.

Later…

I just helped Tom put together the wheelbarrow he bought for transporting old bits of roofing that he’s knocked off the side of the house by the freeloaders to the dumpster in front. It’s also a good thing to have anyway.

Fortunately, the dogs let us work in peace. Just Blackie was meowing, as usual.

He believes he’ll be done stripping the old roof off tomorrow. He’s only got the side of the house and by the cooler and AC to do. A little in the back freeloader corner, as I call it. The other is the back street corner.

He says it’ll only take two days to put the new roof on. That means Saturday will be his last workday, which seems a bit doubtful to me. That’s cuz he’s so lousy with estimating time. He’s great at 95% of the things in this world, but not time frames.

I asked him about the cop’s house, and he says he doesn’t know what the story with that house is or who’s there.

I pointed out how I realized recently that I haven’t heard the old man’s dog in a while, and he says it is gone. Even the trailer people are, but that may be because they couldn’t sleep well here. Ha, ha!

I asked Tom if he thought I could maintain 100 pounds as easily as I’m maintaining 115 pounds if I could get there tomorrow. He said that in this day and age, it’d be very hard to do. I asked him if this means that I’ll gain 15 pounds every 10 years or so, but he said that after gaining the weight that people typically gain when they go from young adulthood to middle age, they usually don’t gain more. You tend to lose weight when you’re old, though. Yeah, I figured and sensed that if I were ever 100 pounds again it’d be because I was old. Or very ill.

I contemplated just going through the 4-5 days of starvation to get down to 100 just to settle my curiosity and see if it is as easy to maintain as 115 is, but nah. Too much slavery just to almost be guaranteed to soar right back up here where I am in no time. It’s not natural to be thin at nearly 33 years of age. So, since I’ll never have a child, I should be around where I am throughout my life. I sure hope so, anyway. If I had had a child, I’d be hanging at an average of 140 for the rest of my life. Yuck!

Tuesday, November 17, 1998

According to Tom, Bill’s not here today. Is his car dead again?

I got a really long email from Evie and in it, she said that since the roof is a big job to do alone, to call if we want help. How can David help? He has a full-time job and two kids. Plus, from what Tom’s said, he doesn’t exactly have the brains for this kind of work.

Between the way I’ve been eating the last couple of days and being stuck, I’ve gained a couple of pounds, so I’m only gonna have a bite today. I don’t want to go over 115 pounds if I can help it.

We went out yesterday to Walgreens and Staples. At Staple’s, we looked at digital cameras and Tom looked for a game, but couldn’t find anything of interest. I got cartoon disks, some color changer/stamper markers, and more iron-on sheets for the T-shirts.

At Walgreens, we were gonna get stamps and a puzzle for me, but we forgot the stamps and their puzzles were boring, so we just got nuts and chips.

Red Lobster called again looking for Andy. Looking for Mark, actually, cuz that’s the name he prefers to use nowadays. Why would they call here? I told the guy he doesn’t live here and he thanked me and hung up. Did Andy ever resolve his problems with those coworkers? He hasn’t left any messages about it, and that call he made on Saturday was his last call to me.

Spot has some kind of growth on her leg. A tumor, I guess, but she doesn’t appear to be in any pain or having trouble getting around despite how big her leg is at the hip area, fortunately.

As figured, the traps caught no mice of any kind either in the back room or the garage.

It’s 32” from the top of my head to my lower ass where the ends of my hair are (the longest ends, anyway). So that means my hair is more than half my height since I’m 59”.

After nagging Tom for months to trim the hedges and tree, I feel bad about it. First of all, he can’t help being so busy and having no time for it, and even if he did have time to do it, he doesn’t want to. He hates that stuff just as much as I hate dusting and vacuuming. So, he shouldn’t be pushed to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

Tom and I talked about taking care of ourselves sexually. I told him I liked vibrators better than my hand and that I thought of women when I’d take care of myself since I don’t need to fantasize about him, cuz he’s not a fantasy. He’s here with me in real life. He said he thinks of nothing in particular but sex when he takes care of himself. So he definitely is taking care of relieving himself as I always believed, but this is good. Better to get off by yourself than in no way at all, and I totally understand. Some of us just prefer to get off by ourselves. It’s easier that way, although his reasons are different than mine. He gets off by himself so he can’t risk impregnating me. I do it cuz he can’t know what I’m feeling. Only I can, and only I know what’s best and how to hit the spot just right that feels best to me. It’s much harder to tell a person how to do you than it is to just do yourself, cuz you know yourself and what feels best to you better than anyone else. It’s too hard to get off when he’s on the side and it takes forever, I can’t get off with him up top, and although to be eaten out is my favorite, that too takes some time because I have to keep on constantly telling him to go down lower, or up higher, or lighter, or harder. So, I may as well just save the orgasms for my own time alone, just like he saves 99% of his for himself to take care of.

So, since having sex with him just doesn’t feel as good as doing it alone, and since there’s no child to conceive motivating me, this is why I’ve come to be glad that he’s got such a low drive himself and that our schedules and busyness don’t allow us to be consistent with the sex. It’s just not something I look forward to doing anymore. I love to be close to him and to spend time with him, but the sexual part of it is not like a chore for me, but just a bore. Just something that I do and something I just go through the motions of doing. Since we both would rather orgasm on our own, I wonder why we even bother at times.

Later…

Thank God we don’t live several houses behind us. I was out brushing my hair and watching Tom, although I couldn’t see much of him since he was now at the front of the house when I heard this dog with an incredibly obnoxious bark. Worse than what the freeloaders had and maybe even slightly worse than the guard dogs, too, but that one’s too close to call. It sounded like the dog that the trailer people had. I still haven’t seen them in ages, by the way, but anyway, it had a whining, shrilly type of bark that’s between a cry and a scream. If that thing were just a few feet away next door, I’d kill those freeloaders for sure for having that right outside my window, then I’d set the dog free. I wouldn’t even wait the time it’d take to have them come out and investigate her having a dog she’s not supposed to have, then demanding she gets rid of it. Thank fucking God for her and for me that she can’t have a dog, cuz some subsidized situations let you have a dog. The NHA lets you have one dog or cat that doesn’t exceed a certain height and length.

If all dogs’ bark were like the one across the street, then they’d be a little easier to live with. The one across the street doesn’t bark much and it has a lower, softer kind of bark. That shrieking thing that I just heard, though, wouldn’t be able to be drowned out by fans if it were just a few feet away. Fortunately, though, it’s far enough away that you can’t hear it in the house.

Later…

The rest of this month is gonna be pretty tough on me. I’ve got the crotch doctor to see on the 23rd and Melanie to see on the 29th. I got up at 8 AM today. It’s too soon between now and the 23rd to flip my schedule, which I couldn’t do anyway with Tom’s working on the roof, and then it’ll be too soon between the 23rd and the 29th to flip it, so I’m gonna have to stay on days for the rest of this month. It’s gonna be soooooo hard.

The freeloader was in for lunch. It parked on the street since it’s not Sunday and the city maybe won’t do a spot check. I commented to Tom that the bitch must be home since Bill was not there and he was coming to have lunch with her, but Tom said he doesn’t think she was home cuz he seems to only come over when she's not here. Yeah, could be. Besides, this bitch knows enough assholes just like herself to give her rides. But why would the cock only come here if she’s not here? If she doesn’t want him around, and it does seem like they’ve been avoiding each other, why doesn’t she get the key back from him? And also, why can’t he go to his own place for lunch? Is it further away from where he works? Doesn’t she feel used by him coming to eat her food for lunch and to use her washer and TV?

Well, at least the black boy is behaving. It’s not slamming doors or banging bass. In fact, I wouldn’t even know it was here if Tom didn’t tell me. He’s the one that saw its car from the roof.

Monday, November 16, 1998

Another day with Tom up on the roof. He said today’s going better than yesterday, but that if it takes till the weekend, fine. He had hoped to be done Tuesday, but since things take longer than expected, it may go till the weekend, but at least no rain is predicted all week.

I asked Tom if some of the roofing stuff will end up in their carport and he said yes, although he’s gonna do all he can to prevent that, naturally. I asked if he thought the bitch would run and try to have us served over it and he said no. She may not do that, but she’ll do something, although Tom disagrees. I’m thinking, though, we might be in for some more calls preaching racial harmony, although they’re gonna have to do that from a phone that they don’t mind us seeing the number to, like a payphone. So, maybe we’ll get some childish go-across-the-street-for-sex letters again.

The cock left right after the football game yesterday at 5:30 and there was no music or barbecue. Caddy kid’s on one of his absences, which is nice, but a spruce green car did bang by once. Other than that, it was a nice weekend, but as we get closer to the next weekend, I’ll be able to vibe whether or not it’ll be their turn to be heard. I know there’s to be a ruckus at least every 4 weekends or so, so we’ll see. They gotta put on some kind of show for me periodically to remind me they’re there.

I never did hear the bitch come in yesterday. Maybe she got in while I was listening to music, or in where the fan was on while reading, or after I’d crashed.

Later…

I was gonna go ahead and do some indexing of my '80s journals when I discovered 20 pages of journal 2 that I didn’t type up. How could I have missed it? Anyway, I typed and added that in.

I was surprised to wake up a pound lighter today when yesterday I had a TV dinner, popcorn, and 4 KFC chicken wings. As Tom said, maybe my body’s adjusting to not smoking. Maybe, but I’m still pretty sure I’ll stay at 115 pounds, give or take a few pounds, for a very long time.

Tom weighed himself too. He’s 213 pounds.

That dark green car just banged by again. It’s not as loud as Caddy Kid, but it still is way too loud. I can hear it long before he goes by the house. I can hear him while he’s still 15-20 houses away.

It looks like Tom’s not gonna be dismissed from jury duty, which won’t help with the roof work, cuz then he’ll have to take a day out of getting the roof done, just to go play court. That is unless he did get a dismissal notice that was delivered to N. 21 Dr.

No wonder this mailman keeps fucking up. I was wondering why he seemed to not give a shit. Why did he want to risk losing his job by being so careless with mail delivery? Well, as Tom pointed out and reminded me, he’s a government employee, practically invincible, and nearly impossible to get fired. So that’s why more mail is going to N. 21 Dr. I figured that he’d get written up and risk losing his job if I complained and that that would make him do his job right, but I was wrong. They don’t get written up. Somebody obviously talked to him, cuz we stopped getting other people’s mail twice a week. But what I didn’t realize at the time, like a stupid idiot, was that that’d only make him give more of our mail away and that’s apparently what he’s doing. I’d love to have a few minutes with this guy out front, but it wouldn’t do me no good. Besides, it won’t be the end of our world if we don’t get some of our mail, since most of it’s just junk and bills. I mean, I still don’t want my catalog I’m expecting to go to someone else, but if I don’t get it, I’ll just keep calling Ashton Drake till the mailman decides to give me one. We’ll have a PO Box when we move, though. Those are the best to have if you want to ensure that you’ll get your mail and your mail only and that others won’t get your mail, either.

Sunday, November 15, 1998

The sister in the white car with the thick black trim picked the bitch up at 7:30 this morning.

Tom just went to pick up some more roofing shingles and so far, the project’s going well. Tom feels that the strenuous work is done and now it’s just tedious work from here. He says the bitch’s roof is really nice, but not over the carport and patio. He says that’s put on all wrong.

Tom told me that the guy had originally tried to deliver the dumpster to that lady on N. 21 Dr. and that she said she gets our mail, too. Yeah, I believe it. Fucking prick mailman! I shouldn’t have bothered complaining about him cuz all it did was cause him to cut down on giving us other people’s mail, but not from giving others our mail. If I had a choice, I’d rather get others’ mail than have others get ours. I’m sure he’s been giving a lot more of our mail to her too, since my complaint. People will concentrate more on spiting you and getting back at you, rather than saving their job. He obviously doesn’t care if he loses his job or not. Either that or he doesn’t think he can lose it. Some people think they’re invincible.

Later…

Tom just went on the roof for his first work session of the day. He says to call him down at 11:00 if he’s not down by then. He said he was glad to know that the roof replacement would be less time-consuming and less costly than expected, but that he has to work with this messy black stuff that he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

Still no signs of Tanner. I really believe she got out of the house. Well, if I’m as right as I appear to be and sense I am, I hope she’s enjoying herself out there. Still, I looked to see if I could find duties or chewed paper, but couldn’t find any signs of her around the house.

Later…

The bitch isn’t back yet. She might not be back till 1:00 or 2:00.

I constantly have dreams with Dureen and Art in them. Even before I ditched them I did, but now it bothers me more, for obvious reasons. I closed the chapter of my life that included these people, so I don’t need them in my dreams. And in these dreams, I almost never know Tom. I’m almost always single.

Thursday night it was them taking me out to dinner or to some kind of party.

Friday night I was single, in my own apartment, and dancing again, and I happened to live right near them. So I walked over to their place and you could tell they were still mad at me, but they opened the door and let me in anyway. We really didn’t say much to each other. Marty was there and so was Goldie. Ma sewed something for me. Then after a while, I got up and said, “Maybe I’ll come see you again sometime.”

Last night they left me alone. If they were in any dreams, I don’t recall them.

There was a dream with Tom in it, though. Yeah, a nightmare that woke me up. I was able to go back to sleep after a while, though. We lived in a big 2-story house with a wide front porch. Tom was upstairs. I had the front door open and thought I heard a footstep out there so I went to check. At the same time, I saw the guy standing off to the side of the front door, he saw me. He was in his late teens or early 20s. I don’t know what he wore for clothes, but he had boots on of some kind. He had longish light brown hair that was wavy. He said a couple of things to me during the course of the dream, but I only remember the second thing he said which was, “Looks like you’ve been thinking about me.” I reacted in utter fear and began running to the stairs with this guy following. I called out Tom’s name, but due to my fear, my voice was too soft. I had just hit the bottom steps and called out Tom’s name loud enough when I woke up.

My reaction in this dream, though, was way out of real-life character for me. I was terrified in the dream, but in real life, I’d be way too pissed for any fear. I’d be furious that a stranger was invading my territory, as I’m very protective of my property and stuff after having Dureen and people at the Brattleboro Retreat and Valleyhead fuck with so much of my stuff. Stuff that meant a lot to me. I’d have reacted with an inhumane kind of fury and I’d have probably pounced on the dude whether or not he was armed. I’d take my chances of being killed before I’d just lay down and let someone abuse me or my stuff.

What I wonder is, do they constantly dream about me, too? I highly doubt Dureen, Art or Larry dream of me constantly. I feel like it’s only me that has them intrude upon my waking thoughts and intrude upon my dreams, but I can never know for sure what’s in their thoughts and dreams.

I’m almost back to 115 pounds. As I approach my period, I’ll be more like 117-118. God, my body is so comfortable at 115! I didn’t have to eat much more to get back up here. As is the case half of the time, though, I’m fucking starving right after I just had a TV dinner. I may give myself a break today and eat whenever I’m hungry. I can’t do that all the time like I used to, though, or else I’ll be 200 pounds eventually.

Tom surprised me last night by telling me he wanted sex this morning. I didn’t think we’d get around to that till next weekend. I’m around mid-cycle, and I couldn’t believe it, but he not only didn’t use the bathroom before sex, I thought he was gonna cum, too. Unless he was acting, he was close. I thought his excuse was gonna be that he was too horny. The most ridiculous one of them all. That’s like saying you’re too thirsty to take a drink. It was that he was too sore from yesterday’s hard work, which very well could’ve been the truth. Yeah, I think he was telling the truth. Lately, he seems to be making a point of letting me know it when he doesn’t cum. As if the guilt of keeping quiet and letting me “think” he’s cumming regularly is setting in.

Those that can get hard can cum. It’s those that can’t get hard to begin with that can’t cum. Nonetheless, he seems content and happy and that’s what counts.

Later…

I absolutely don’t believe it. The cock’s actually parked in the driveway! I haven’t heard any music yet, but I don’t like this being in the driveway deal. It is the weekend, though, so the city’s not gonna check up on that house, but since I knew they’d kiss and make up eventually, does this mean he’s moving back? He’s out of here if he even thinks for a minute he’s moving back here, cuz I’ll be damned if I’ll go back to listening to his music or his constant door-slamming that went on 6 times a day for 5 minutes each. It ain’t gonna happen, Mike, so don’t even think of it. You come back here, you’re outa here! And I’m gonna go even further than eviction, I’m gonna lay his ass right out front here if he goes back to his old shit, so help me God! I’ll do it right in front of any kids that may be over there too, and show them just what happens to naughty freeloaders who don’t give a fuck about others and who harass and provoke people that never did shit to them in the first place. Cock, you better be just visiting or your ass is mine! It’s fucking mine for once and for all like it should’ve been nearly 3 years ago.

I wish this bitch and that nothing piece of shit she’s with would break the fuck up and stay that way like 98% of the couples in this world do, but fat chance. They’ll probably be together on and off forever. And even if she had someone new tomorrow, it’d be just like this little fuck. A bitch like that that’s that selfish and rude could only get someone just as selfish and rude.

The cock isn’t seeing its freeloader during the week too much these days, so it’s my wishful thinking that he’s here just to see the kid. I know better, though. It’s her he wants to see. Probably wants to get laid.

Later…

When Tom came down to take a break, I asked him if he heard the cock bang in, since it’s hard to tell the difference with all the banging he’s making from up there. He said he didn’t hear a sound and didn’t even see his car there. I asked him if he thought the cock was moving in and he said no. Also, I asked if he thought they could hear it in their house through their double-paned windows and he said not a lot. It’s all the hammering that’s to begin on Monday and Tuesday that’ll be heard as he goes to put on the new shingles. But then that bitch won’t be there to hear it. Bill will be, but I ain’t got nothing against him. He never did me any wrong.

Anyway, Tom said he’s 100% sure that there’s no way rainwater, no matter how hard it rains, will get into the house when he’s done.

Later…

Tom came down for a break a while ago, and a half-hour ago, the cock left. All he heard from the living room was a car door, but no engine. I, who was in the kitchen, heard nothing. Then it came back a few minutes later and neither of us heard it. Tom guessed that he was here watching football and doing its laundry since there was male clothing on the line out back. They only have a washer in their washroom. No dryer. The cock probably lives in an apartment complex and if it has laundry rooms, good luck getting a machine on a weekend. When I lived at the Vista, I never did my laundry on weekends.

Another reason why we could be so blessed to get all the way into mid-November without any ball games is cuz the basketball people are now on strike. Although this doesn’t stop a sick bitch from sending kids she knows to take over next weekend in the noise department and give us back a taste of our own medicine with the banging and thumping. Nor would it stop the little girl who’s about 10 and lives at the guard dog’s house from playing. She wouldn’t care whether or not there was a strike.

Later…

Eileen wants more computer work. Of course she does. The house is sold. Oh, how I get the urge to call her back and say, “Look. There’s no time for him to work for you for cupcakes. We have too much of our own work to do, so buzz off!”

The bitch should be in any sec now, but the wuss puss just left and it wasn’t alone. Some other guy was with him and one of them did have a bag that could’ve had clothes in it.

Yeah, he never would’ve come and gone this quietly if it weren’t for the city letters. At least I don’t think he would and I doubt he got a sudden trait of consideration, either.

Later…

Tom just came down for a break and says there are still clothes on the line. Maybe they belong to the teenage boy that supposedly still lives there. Or maybe the cock and whoever was with it is gonna return later for them.

I set up a trap in the back room, but both of us think Tanner got outside. Tomorrow I’ll set up a trap in the garage. If it’s triggered, I’ll have to open the trap up outside slowly in case it’s not Tanner, cuz Tanner will just sit there, but a wild mouse will come shooting out of that thing.

Later…

Cock’s back. I really, really hope that this hanging out here on weekends is gonna be a rare thing. His presence really bugs me. The more he comes around, the more likely he is to stay here. This is a pattern I’ve noticed before. I will get him out of here if he does move back. No doubt about it. But it’s a fucking hassle. Just another hassle in my life that I don’t need and would rather not have to deal with. Maybe they’ll get into a fight again soon enough. They always do. Anyway, I’m sure he’s got a few more trips to make before he leaves for the night. I remember his weekends here oh so well. He’d come and go at least 6 times a day.

Cleaning up after the roof is all done is gonna be a bitch! There are nails and bits of roofing all around the sides of the house, and when he just went to dump the solar panel into the dumpster, glass shattered all over. What a fucking bitch it’ll be cleaning that up!

Later…

The fluorescent kitchen light just died. Great. Just what we need.

Tom’s calling it quits for the day. As I knew it would, it’s taking him longer than he planned. Also, he thought today’s work would be easier than yesterday’s, but nope. That’s not what he says now. My biggest question is, will it rain on him and ruin what he’s done and flood our house? They say clouds won’t be rolling in till Tuesday, which is a typical day for clouds to come in. If it’s gonna rain, it usually rains on Mondays or Tuesdays. Some weekday, anyway. Even if it’s clear until Wednesday, what if the job takes him a week longer than he expected? He always overestimates things.

Later…

The bitch isn’t back yet and the cock’s still here. If the bitch came back while we were out getting KFC and Arby’s, I wouldn’t know it, but I’ll know it if she comes in while we’re here by the door slamming and possible yelling I’ll hear. Tom thinks the cock knew she had somewhere to go all day and planned on coming over to do laundry and watch football.

Tom said he saw the cock come in with food bags, so there might be a barbecue. They can do anything they want, they just can’t pummel my house with their bass, nor can they bang and thump for hours a few feet away from my house with a basketball.

Tom said that at least 3 houses were playing loud music, but I didn’t hear a thing. He said the people across the street had music going while they were cleaning up the place for the renters. He said he could hear people cheering on the Minnesota Vikings down the street and then the lady came out of the music people’s house where the band used to piss me the fuck off, and she yelled, “I hate the Minnesota Vikings!”

Blackie doesn’t want to come in to eat and meow. He just wants to meow outside.

It’s a hot one out there today! It’s close to 90º.

Saturday, November 14, 1998

Apparently, they rented the house across the street. They’re moving out right now. There’s a big moving truck out there now. Well, I’ll know as soon as the renters get here by all the barking I’ll hear. I know it won’t do me any good, but they’ll be getting a letter from me about it and more.

Speaking of barking, I thought it was a pretty quiet day for barking yesterday when Tom did a little work on the roof, but he said that wasn’t the case. He said 6-8 dogs in the area were going off, but I guess that the noise from the air cleaner drowned that out.

The big dumpster came yesterday. It’s 22’ long and is almost my height. After the roofing stuff is in it, we’re gonna use this as an opportunity to ditch some big bulky stuff we don’t want, and I’d love to see that tree in front trimmed once and for all, but I won’t count on it. I just can’t get Tom to keep up on the yard work, but hopefully, I won’t have more than 8 more months of pushing him to mow and trim hedges and trees.

We made a schedule of work times for him today and breaks. At 9:00 he began working and I’ll call him down for a break at 10:45. Then he’ll go up there again at 11:00-12:45, then from 1:15-3:00, and 3:00-5:00. I was wrong in assuming he’s doing just the back room and garage area. He’s replacing the whole entire roof. He said we’re very lucky it didn’t leak in all the rooms since the roof is in horrible condition.

Later…

I was just outside and I didn’t hear any dogs, amazingly, since it is the weekend after all. It’s early still. I wish I could know that that bitch is trying to sleep in and can’t! But mothers don’t get to sleep in, and even if this one could, it’d sleep like a log. It’d sleep right through it with my luck.

Miss Bitch is gonna be awfully confused when she sees not only strange pictures in her little package but also a key. Tom had me ditch his ma’s old house keys and I stuck one of them into the bitch’s manila envelope. Every now and then I mix in senseless mumbo jumbo, of course, and I wrote something about enclosing the key to my heart and the key to my house.

I woke up at 112 pounds today. Wow. And I had at least 1400 calories yesterday.

Thank you, God, that due to him having a cold, then having this project with the roof, I’m not into sex with him anymore or wanting to hopelessly try for a kid. We haven’t had sex in a while and it’ll certainly be a while before we do, but my love for this man just isn’t sexual. It’s all emotional. So, it’s due to how I’ve become that makes the part-time, intermittent sex tolerable.

Here’s Andy’s first of what I’m sure will be many calls to come. If he’s gonna be a pest I’ll just ignore him. He needs to take care of his own problems over the weekend. I’ve got too much shit to do helping Tom, doing laundry, etc.

Later…

Well, he didn’t leave a message, but he let his name show up on the box, which means he was really hoping I’d see it was him and pick up, but can’t he wait and talk to me once a week? He’s such a pest!

Later…

An hour and 45 minutes is too long for him to be working up there, so we’ve cut down his time up there and lengthened his breaks.

He said he heard music coming from a house across the street that was about 3 houses away, but I didn’t hear anything. He also said one of the movers across the street asked him if he was having fun, but I didn’t hear that either. I can’t believe how quiet they’ve been across the street, but with Tom’s working, which sounds like people are basing by, it makes no difference.

Wait till I tell him Tanner’s missing. I don’t know if I lost her today when I changed the cages, or sometime earlier, but she’s gone. I prayed to God to let me find her, but as usual, I was ignored.

The moving truck’s gone, but there’s a pickup full of stuff out there still.

God, don’t compensate me for the peace I’ve had around here with dogs and kids, please! It’s true, though, that this is the longest stretch of peacetime around here. Ever since the cock left last July, with just an occasional ruckus since. A couple of bouts of music, some door-slamming, some voices, and that’s it. The only real constant nuisance around here is the guard dogs.

Later…

Tom took a break for an hour and went back to work a little while ago. I’ll be calling him down for another break at 2:30.

So far, no freeloaders have felt obligated to join in the ruckus Tom’s making, but if they don’t this weekend, they may very well take next weekend as their weekend to be heard. They wouldn’t want to be left out, I’m sure.

It’s been a very quiet move across the street. It wouldn’t have woken me up if I were asleep.

I’m surprised the pest hasn’t called again. Unfortunately, he’s got weekends off. The time I want to be bothered the least. He can’t sit at home and entertain himself. As he admits, he has no hobbies and hates to do things. All he likes is TV, music, pot and the phone. Food, too, but since he’s off the pot at this time, it’s food, phone, TV and music, but that’s not enough for him. It drives him up the wall to just be alone and listen to music or watch TV and he’s only got so much money to put into food. He’s got to talk to people cuz he’s lonely. The phone is his number one thing.

Tom’s not making too, too much noise, although he’s still at the back of the house. Let’s just say that the freeloaders may not hear him as well as I’d like for them to hear him. Remember, they also have double-paned windows.

I can concentrate just fine throughout Tom’s bopping around up there. I can tune it out and do what I’m doing with it being background noise just like a fan would be. I’m aware of it. Meaning, I know he’s up there banging around, but I can still carry on and do my thing. That’s the difference between some asshole out there that is deliberately trying to piss you off, and him.

I’m still not sure whether I lost Tanner today or earlier, but I have a very strong feeling I’ll never see her again and that she got out of the house. Part of being a rodent owner/breeder, though, is that they come and go constantly since they don’t live very long to begin with. Even though I’m used to not having pets for too long and am used to a lot of different pets coming and going, she will be missed.

Later…

Tom just came down and reported a white car came to get the bitch. Yeah, the sister usually gets her at this time of day on Saturdays. She’ll either be back in a couple of hours or late tonight.

Since I’m not walking anymore, I’m forced to do stomach crunches again for the sake of my lower back. That lower back pain’s back again where it feels like my spine’s being pulled apart. I didn’t realize walking was helping my back, but it obviously was. At first I was pissed about it since these exercises don’t do shit to flatten or firm my stomach, but at least they do help my back, so it’s not like I’m getting absolutely nothing out of doing them and they only take a few minutes to do.

This battery charger is really cool. I slip in the 3 batteries that go in my vibrator, and a red light lights up next to each battery. You know they’re recharged when the lights go out.

Tom thinks Tanner can get up the step that’s in between the back room and the rest of the house, but I don’t know. It seems a little high for such a mellow mouse. I’m surprised that of all the mice, it was Tanner who escaped. If anyone would get away, I’d think it’d be Bandit.