I've been cleaning my room the last few days. I guess I'm trying to misrepresent myself as an organized person to the new boy I'm dating. He hasn't seen my apartment yet. I don't think he'll believe I'm actually this clean though.
I've almost got my desk cleared off. I took some drawers from an old dresser I found out by the dumpster and turned them into shelving for it. They're the perfect size for organizing cds and putting books in.
I was sorting through my papers, throwing things away and thumbtacking numbers and addresses to my cork board, when I came across a piece of printer paper I'd written on late at night in sharpie marker months ago. It was when I was trying to convince my manager to give me Sundays off instead of Saturdays. I didn't ever give it to her, but I worked myself up quite a bit when I wrote it. (It's not dated.)
My dad had a stroke a couple months ago. And my mom goes to church on Sundays. My dad's started wanting to go everywhere with her. He gets confused sometimes and doesn't want to be alone and can't read any more and he's started having dreams about all his dead brothers and sisters standing around his bed and I'm not sure how many more years he's going to be alive. I want Sundays off so my mom can go to church and my dad won't be home alone.
Do I throw it out or file it away and cry every time I come upon it?
11:39 a.m. - 2006-10-25
Recent entries:
A Small Mountain of Perishables - 2010-10-04
Update - 2010-08-04
I moved closer to town. - 2007-07-26
Higher Education Got me Laid - 2007-06-29
If it's this hard to pick a dress, I'd hate to think about buying a house. - 2007-06-28
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