I would give anything to move out of this house. I'm sad about that. I used to love it. This house was my safety and security as a teenager. Everything here was good and clean and better than my mother's home.
But it seems that I lack my grandparents' ability to maintain things. The house is a mess now. It's broken. More things go wrong every day. The floors have wonky spots I don't trust. Almost all of the windows are a struggle. Very few of the doors function properly. It's hot. It's muggy. Or it's cold. I never feel like everything is going to be alright here, not anymore. I just worry what will go wrong next.
I planned on being out of here in five years. I failed. One more thing in the long list of things (basically, everything) that I have failed to do. Now I don't even know how to manage to get out of here. I'm not even sure the steps I need to take to make the house the best it can be. It just overwhelms me.
Maybe I should just drag in a trash can and start tossing away stuff I've not even messed with in years. At least if the house was more empty, it would be less overwhelming. Or maybe it will help once it's less humid outside.
No comments:
Post a Comment