Diaries Magazine
It apparently happened the weekend I was losing my home and making an enforced move to Louisiana. At the time I'd been filled with this overwhelming feeling that it was time to go. My husband is leaving the military and we were moving anyway. Our light bill had went through the roof - over $400 a month - and we simply couldn't afford anything anymore least of all it. But still.
I'm very depressed that I missed it again. I know that all that would happen is I'd go and maybe attend some talks. I'd be bored and be isolated in a crowd of strangers. One of the coordinators is a angry woman who yelled at me over the phone once, tried to change her story about meeting a reptilian because she didn't want to be looked at like she was crazy, and insists on changing terms her mentor established in a claim for fame. I dislike her and find her shallow and selfish. But I still want to go. I don't know why. This whole drive to find others like me is pointless and a waste of time. I'll never find others like me.
I talk to my husband on the phone when something happens to confirm my situation, like the other day when I went to "work" for the first time since moving and the dog was on edge all day the next day. And then yesterday - I forget what it was - but something happened to confirm it. Or that my cat is very angry sensitive to tones of any kind and when the phone wires got crossed with our alarm to make it ring when the phone rings, she runs to the garage door with her ears laid back ready to beat up whomever is about to enter. And so many other circumstantial things. But. I dunno. It would be nice to go even if it most likely would be a complete waste of time and money.