On the manhunt again, and despite owning my own house, the fact I retired early is likely to make the manhunt impossible, unless he’s retired too. So, that means that he’s going to be older, not younger. Hummmmm….
My life is so calm and quiet it’s almost frightening. I have everything I need to get a life going again, but it’s hard to have to stay home because of limited income, so I’m job hunting too. Despite the recent local publicity, jobs are scarce. Even non-professional income maintenance positions like retail are difficult to come by.
I implored JLR to write a suit, but it’s not happening, so I have to write it myself. The stalking has gone on so long, I have had people warn me about the break-ins, and the police refuse to stop my stalkers. I have made a dozen or so calls over the odd wiring changes, the ring and run knocking scenarios, things hitting me on the head as I walk out the door, and they never investigate. And then the cars that seem to belong somewhere else, not here.
The problem is that people are assholes, who want to cause damage to others, and can’t live and let live. One of my friends had a dinner out last night, her sons birthday. He’s depressed because of health issues. A neighboring diner attacked him verbally, calling him names, perhaps because her son dropped an F-bomb or two. Out of thin air! They were all scared to say anything. Her son responded diplomatically to him “you don’t know me as a person” comment, and I don’t think he said anything more. If it were me, I would have gotten the type of asshole who would have responded to me by saying: “yes I do.” It’s the type of thing that makes me want to go onto a military base somewhere, and live inside its gates, forever. Someplace safe.
Trying to live with the indigent, when you lose your money after a health battle. Now there’s one for you!! It’s no longer a #PrivilegedWhiteGirlProblem, but simply a #WhiteGirlProblem! I think someone tried to murder me, by walking into my kitchen, and turning on the flame on the stove while I was asleep upstairs at Chalfont. My whole apartment was hot, and if I’d let it go on for longer I could have had a real fire or other problems. I never called anyone, it didn’t seem likely that I’d have any response. It only happened during the day, and only someone from the office should have had the key. I got smeared verbally to those in the office, and presumably elsewhere. So, someone had an agenda.
Trying to find a laser that works for me.