Stream Of Conciousness

Dear Jessica, Friday (7/28) Drew’s mom was supposed to come to our house. Drew told me Thursday that she was wanting to come and possibly stay. We only have one bed in our house so she would’ve had to sleep on the couch. Our living room furniture is her old furniture so I'm sure she has slept on the couch we have at some point. Personally I don’t think it’s very comfortable to sleep on. It's fine to sit on, but it's too small to stretch out and have a proper sleep. You’re pretty much forced to stay in a curled up position the entire time you’re asleep. That might be fine for someone who doesn’t toss and turn at night like I do, but I imagine most people do. Its also sort of lumpy. We plan on buying an air mattress in the near future for guests to sleep on. I thought they would cost more but I looked online and found good quality queen size ones for $30-$60. I woke up Friday morning knowing I needed to clean my house to make it ready for a visitor. I put it off for

Okay bleh this is going to be a venting post because I'm feeling almost sick to my stomach and I think it might help to put it down on paper. Or the electronic version of that. Drew got a letter in the mail a few weeks ago saying he was approved to receive disability benefits. Fantastic. Wonderful. We have been waiting for like 3 whole years for this to happen. The letter said he would start receiving checks in the mail starting within the next month. It didn’t say how much he was awarded for back pay or even how much the monthly amount would be. Whatever. A few days or a week or whatever later, he got a check and it was a substantial amount and it was actually more than he was expecting, but it didn’t say whether it was a payment from the back pay or if it was the monthly allowance check. There was no letter or any information about it really other than what was on the check itself. I checked the mail today and he had two separate letters from social security or whatever

This is not what I expected my life to be like. When I was younger I used to wonder what my life would be like as an adult. I figured I would graduate high school, go to college for something or other and have a really cool job. I remember wanting to be an FBI agent, a scientist, or maybe a famous singer (dream big, you know). Turns out I'm not mentally equipped for the first two. Maybe I could do the last one if I wasn’t afraid of performing in front of crowds. I used to imagine that I would get married and maybe have kids along with having my really cool job and a college degree. I told my mom I wanted our house to be my house when my parents were gone. Sounds like a weird thing to say to your mom, but she was always saying stuff like that.   “When I'm dead you can have my jewelry.” Okay, mom, you're only 35 and I'm 8 but sure, when you die I’d like to keep this piece of jewelry and I’ll stay in this house with your ghost. When I was younger I could see my

I wish I lived a minimalist life. Things would be easier. All I would need is a bed with one set of sheets and one lamp and some books. I would only have one bottle of shampoo and one bottle of conditioner instead of 7. I would have two chairs instead of 10. I would only have a few key pieces of clothing instead of a mound of laundry. Most of all I wouldn't have mess. I wouldn't get frustrated when things get out of place and I have to reorganize them for the 15th time. If I misplaced my keys there would only be a few places to look. Instead, I was made to be a messy person who holds onto math assignments from high school and hordes hole-y t-shirts. My kitchen table is always full of junk mail, jackets, packs of batteries, and bags of dry cat food. Untidy blankets lay across the couches in my living room. Candles live in clusters on any given flat surface and cat toys litter the floor. Drawers and cabinets are full of gadgets and objects I rarely use but keep in case I need t