Since I need to be ready to head to the hospital around 5am, I decided to forego sleep until later.

Instead I wrote my roommate two letters, one threatening eviction with a list of why, and one requesting he full stop stops using anything of mine. Anything. There's also a copy of the most recent bills tacked on to his already massive overdue amount.

It's now officially over $1200-.

I'm done playing nicely.

Many of my female friends are scared of him, but I'm not. I feel quite prepared to protect myself in any necessary manner should he threaten me. Oakland PD comes to mind.

I need that money, but I need peace of mind even more. If given a choice I'd prefer money with him moving out at the end of the month, but I'll go through the legal channels to get an eviction notice on his credit, if necessary, and I wrote that in the one letter.

I truly do not like him. Getting him out is imperative to my good health. My friends nearby have offered to help me start the process, if it becomes necessary. Godsdammit, every new empty bottle of cooking oils or food product, every day nothing has been taken and thrown out, every further evidence of his total lack of respect throws me into a deeper hatred and disgust of his very existence.

He's a fucking asshole, basically.

Anyway, at 5am Paratransit is picking me up to take me to Alameda Hospital to put me under so the surgeon can put my hip under an X-ray so he knows the needle full of steroids is going into the proper place in my needing replacement hip socket - a temporary relief if all goes well. Leslie has my car so she can pick me up afterward.

Then she gets my dogs from the boarding vet, and maybe does some light shopping for me, if I'm lucky. We may watch some "Game of Thrones" together. She stayed after Makers Faire to watch "Cosmos" tonight.

Now back to "House of Leaves," and "Johnny the Homicidal Maniac." Thank you, Paul and John, for sharing your sick guilty literary pleasures with me. I feel loved.