In the course of this move, I've managed to lose almost everything I loved.
My bedroom, (ha ha ha) is no bedroom, as it has no bed, and all my books (well almost all of them) and some of my CDs are piled on the floor. (With nowhere to go) I haven't had much of a chance in the 4-ish weeks that we've lived there to even try to organize and declutter my space.
Nope. I have no place to call my own in this house.
I want to go home.
At least on 11th ST, I had a place to call my own.
Here, I have nothing, except bills, and I truly believe that no one cares.
I can't get to my computer, because there's no place for it. Where there is space for it...there's no three pronged outlets.
I know I'm whining, but dammit, I thought moving would make things easier or better for me.
Frankly, I think it has done the opposite and it is making me very very crabby.
3672 - Saturday jokes
2 hours ago