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Exploding Stomachs and Lost Dreams
Just when I thought I was getting better, since I only had the runs once yesterday and once the day before that really wasn’t quite the runs, my stomach explodes on me big time. ☹ I really hope this is fixable but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if it was IBS just because it would be my shit luck to have something I couldn’t fix. This is really going to make my life harder as if the sleep curse doesn’t already make it hard enough. Now I have to worry about going out and things like that. How the hell do I know my stomach isn’t gonna explode on me when I go out for my stomach ultrasound? I’m calling the office I was referred to tomorrow to make an appointment.
So the gay guys are moving to Brooksville. I'd really love to know what it’s like living there after they get settled. I’m mostly interested in how much barking and plane activity there might be out there.
Even after all these years, I still cry when I look at our old, lost house in Arizona. It’s just sad to have the dreams and goals we had and the way we looked so forward to picking out and setting up our big, brand-new house just to have everything go to hell on us. Almost everything went wrong. Even when you get the freeloaders out of the picture, so much was wrong with the place and the area but I loved having so much space around us.
There is now a house in front of ours which would spoil the view of the natural landscape from what was my office window. But there’s still no one to the right of the house. I’m surprised that area hasn’t built up more, although the center of town has really built up a lot. Tons of new houses and businesses there now. That part is barely recognizable. But once you get past the casino on the reserve heading toward our place, it’s pretty much like it used to be.
I don’t know why I get so emotional when I think about that place. Maybe because we were forced out of there and didn’t go on our own accord, even though we were ready to go at the same time. All we did was struggle financially, and the place often stunk of cow shit with all the farms.
I had to remind myself when I felt the tears sting my eyes, that that house isn’t that house anymore, even if we were suddenly back there. They totally trashed the place from what I can see. The house is now 23 years old and just wouldn’t be the same. If we were suddenly back there with everything paid for, nothing would be the same. We wouldn’t feel safe there, and talk about being too far from the beach! There just wouldn’t be anything to do there and as much as I hate the cold, I wouldn’t want to go back to living in a furnace either with temperatures in the 120s. That place was a total killer on the electric bill!
I checked the plane site and the few commercial planes going over the area were too high up to be heard. I’m sure they still get sonic booms there, something I definitely don’t miss. Oh, I remember when those bastards would wake me up along with the monsoon storms. I hated listening to the hunters too.
So no, I wouldn’t want to be back there as much as I miss some aspects of it. Besides sad memories of broken dreams, there were too many rattlesnakes and those thorny weeds would get everywhere. I’m not sure if they were goat heads or what. Then you had the Mexican drug cartel moving into the area, and most of the places were scummy and trashed. Our place was probably taken over by a pack of illegals. Nothing else was built on the rest of our property that Huey split up. I didn’t see anything more built up in back or on the left side either. There are a few houses across from the people that were to the left of us. I’m surprised the old shack is still on the corner of their property.
I did see an array of small planes and I’m sure those and helicopters are overabundant there by now right along with motorcycles. There were hardly any motorcycles when we were there, but I passed a handful on the main road leading into the town.
Last night I had a nightmare. We were living behind my grandparents’ old place, but not directly behind it. It was in a spot where no house exists in reality. I knew my grandparents, who were alive and well, were out at the moment. I spotted movement at the side of their place and then realized it was a guy with a raised bat approaching the place as if to break in.
It’s raining lightly now and of course the planes are as annoying as usual. Can’t even go a half hour without hearing something flying unless it’s in the middle of the night and even that’s hit or miss.
The honker just honked in. Yeah, 145 days left with you, buddy. I’m counting down.