I never would have thought that telling my friends how much I hated someone would have caused them to want to put me in prison.
Where is it in the law books in america?
I don’t want to leave my home. Except for the manager, I love where I live.
My favorite days are on the weekend, holidays, bad weather days, and sick days. And after 7pm on weekdays.
These days I can relax, walk around my building and in front of the office without fear of being glared at with disgust and I don’t have to hide or avoid her.
By Sunday or the days before the office is open, I start tightening up and holding my breath and gritting my gums.
I was hoping this was my last home. Not moving because of being evicted.
I don’t mind moving because I found someone that loves me.
Why can’t I ever get along with people. I go from pillar to post. I get tired of the posting life.
How old will I be before I can stay in one place and get along with people?
The grave probably. But the underground people will evict me too.