Tired out

I'm wiped out, which I chose to take as a good sign. No more spotting, but cramps. Again, we'll see.

The fucker next store is smoking something that smells to me like pot again. I sooo don't want to move, but I can't see inhaling this stuff right now. I'm not sure what a compromise would be. I might talk to the building manager and just see what they've done in the past. It's freeeeezing here today which makes windows for us or balconies for them not a good solution.

But I'll go read - ha - probably fall asleep - in the bedroom, which is furthest away, and see what tomorrow brings.

Shandra

P.S. He is a fucker for other reasons (we hear his phone calls with his ex), not because of the pot. It's the yelling that makes me not willing to just approach him.