Sad and mad

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He set his alarm for 6:00 AM and I now have 6.5 hours to myself. I don’t mind though, because I’ve been feeling OK. We’re going to go to Walgreens when they open at 7 for some treats. At 10:00, groceries will be delivered. Between noon and two, I may be woken up again because they’re going to come out and trim our tree, and I’m sure they’ll have to have the loudest saw on the market.

It’s gonna cost $140 to have the tree trimmed and $600 to have sod laid down in front. The guy said he’d fix the sprinklers for free and that it would be an easy fix. Not excited to spend so much money.

Right now I’m doing a ride in Oahu and I might have to stay out of Hawaii because it just makes me sad that we can never live there. Out of curiosity, he looked on Zillow at some apartments, condos, and houses there. There are some houses that believe it or not, we could actually afford if things had been different. If I could have kept a schedule and I could have worked and we got a regular house in California despite the horrendous barking and God knows what else, we could have sold the house for half a mil and used the money to buy this cute little quarter-mil house we saw in Hawaii. But the reality is that unless we won a ton of money, it really is a dream that can never come true.

Ugh, though! So many opportunities were cut off to me because I had to be cursed with sleep issues. Just so many. It makes my eyes sting with tears. Literally. God has taken so, so much from me (if one exists). Just so damn much. Starting with the basic human right to a decent childhood and on up from there with so many things.

Living here for the rest of our lives would be far from the worst thing but I still don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a flight path if I can help it. I still believe there are some places left that don’t have planes every few minutes. A doesn’t have dozens a day. K doesn’t. J doesn’t. We didn’t have the ever-present planes on the beach in Maui as we do on this beach. They are definitely more noticeable when it’s windy or cloudy. I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a motorcycle across the street even if it’s not there year-round.

I made a heart chart. Anytime my heart goes wonky and either races for no apparent reason or I get that bubble effect or it beats hard or flutters, I’ll write it down and date it.

I got a duplicate set of sports bras that I got back out west, which I probably should have gotten before I wasted money on the regular bras. I hate regular bras and the way the straps slip. I should have known better than to get them. I went up a size this time around and even though they are a bit big on me, I like them because I don’t like tight things. I seem to be getting enough support, but I have seven days to try them out.

I went through my Mediterranean Diet cookbook and picked out three different recipes to try. One with pork, one with chicken, and one with shrimp.

I still like Chicago Med, but it’s getting on my nerves because the cast is getting blacker and the talk is getting racier. We can’t even go one whole episode without some reference to race. Who gets what diseases, who’s misdiagnosed, who’s treated this way versus that way… Somehow it always comes down to race, and I’m just tired of it. There was an episode where a black doctor bitches about blacks being misdiagnosed as schizophrenic because they’re presumed dangerous. But they are more dangerous. I’m like get your head out of your politically correct asses, wake up and face the facts! Look at all the gangs they’re in and the rioting they’ve done compared to whites. Look at how much more crime they’re responsible for than whites.

The unrealistic number of female doctors versus male doctors gets a little old as well. So instead of being anxious, I’m sad and mad tonight. Going through Hawaii and realizing just how much my sleep curse has caused me to miss out on made me sad and made me realize that the Hawaiian dream never died just because we moved here. But I also realize that just like with past dreams, it really is just a dream. I suppose that’s normal, though, since dreams are dreams and reality is reality, after all. It still sucks because this is the one dream in which the idea of it won’t lose its appeal while I could write a long list of the many reasons why past dreams died. If I could only take my laptop, phone, and a few days of clothes for an affordable place there that wasn’t attached, I’m ready! 


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