Wednesday, February 12, 2014
The Story of my Life, Chapter 2
My mom tried to stay on good terms with my dad's family. I had an aunt Robin, aunt Rosie, aunt Jane, aunt Johanna, aunt Betty, and aunt Mary. I also had an uncle Bob, uncle George, uncle Bill and uncle Donnie. Rosie, Jane and Johanna lived together at 618 Anderson Street in Franklin and Robin lived up the street, on Union Rd. Robin had a special place in the family, often consulted on major and minor matters by Rosie, Johanna and Jane. Robin was the next to oldest. She had graduated from high school and held a job at the telephone company, from which she retired.
My three aunts (Rosie, Jane and Johanna) cared for me while my mother taught school and they lived right around the corner from the school. Jane would come out to my house and talk to my mom in the mornings and pick up things around the house, minor house cleaning, after my mom would go to school, then I would get up and she'd take me "down to the house." They were so good. So good. I had a charmed life. I would sometimes walk to Robin's under the careful watch of my other aunts or sometimes walk to the grocery with Johanna or Donnie, who would visit, always being asked, "now, what do you want?" My mother would pick me up, promptly after school and we would go home.
When I began kindergarten, my mother had me go to Anthony Wayne Elementary School, closest to my aunt's house. I got on the bus at noon and she would pick me up after school. I hated kindergarten. Cried almost every day and begged by Rosie to stop crying. "It hurt her ears and got on her nerves."
In first grade, I went to George H. Gerke Elementary, closer to my house and where my neighborhood friends went. I went there in second grade, also.
But in third grade, my mother sent me to Middletown Christian, because something horrible happened at her school. She was unjustifiably fired in the middle of the year, 1982-83 school year. She was said to be "incompetent," but that was far from the truth. I know I could be biased in my opinion, because I'm her daughter, but it was far, far from the truth. I heard about her teaching, witnessed her persona which was reality, saw former students talk to her---I knew she wasn't incompetent.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
The Story of my Life, Chapter 1
I want to write the story of my life, and I am thinking about starting Here, on this blog.
I want to be heard, and I want to talk. I think my Talking is the only way I'm going survive the next 15 months (when the program, Save the Dream, stops making my mortgage payments).
There's a Stuart Smalley quote, "I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me!" and this is how I feel, and it gives me inspiration to try to Get Myself Out There.
This blog says a lot about me, but not my past, and not enough about my Present. This is my attempt to get something out there, and if a lot of people could refer what they read to everyone they know, I'd appreciate it. I want to be known. (If Google's Blogger Statistics are true, it seems that 700 people have viewed my posts in Russia and Europe, but none in the US. Pass this on, and don't pay much attention to my early posts. They are really very stupid)
________________________________________________________________________________
My name is Cindy, although, on my birth certificate, it says, "Katherine Lucinda Taylor." I went through school having to explain why I was called Cindy, when my first name is Katherine. "My middle name is Lucinda, and that's how I get Cindy." I was born on November 20th, 1974, at the Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati, Ohio. I live in Franklin, Ohio and have my whole life. And, I'm 39.
I was an only child, to a beautiful, incredibly smart and wise woman, Bernice Yvnonne Boggs Taylor. She was from Harlan, Kentucky. I spent many vacations in Harlan, and I have solid memories of it. I feel as if it were a second home. My mom knew people and people knew her. She knew people well, and I loved seeing her meet some of them and talk to them. I could tell there was a past, but somehow the past wasn't really past. It was as if she was grounded there, and I know she was. It was her grounding. It was her home. It was belonging. Kind of like the "Cheers" theme song, "where everybody knows your name."
She almost didn't go to college. Her self esteem was lacking and she felt tied to her family and the demands of being the oldest child and oldest sibling. House chores were her job and always had been, as my grandmother was a school teacher, coming from Illinois on mission work to the hills of Kentucky to teach the Appalachian people. My grandmother worked all the time and went to college to complete her own school work. My mother cared for my aunt, who was nine years younger than her, My mother was two years older than her brother. My grandmother left my mother in charge of everything, except discipline of my aunt. She fought with my aunt over her taking a bath and would have to drag Cleta to Aunt Artie's house to take a bath, and Artie would have to bribe my aunt or prod her, to take a bath. My grandfather was a work horse, who started out in the coal mines and then, later to a lumberyard and a bakery. He was a very kind man, sweet and sincere. I loved my grandfather and my grandmother.
My mother made excellent grades, and a college recruiter from Union College came to their house and sat on the front porch and persuaded my mom to go to college. She excelled, too, at Union, majoring in biology. She graduated and went straight to the University of Kentucky where she obtained her Masters degree in Education, in 1959. Extraordinary woman.
She was a brunet and had such a unique color of brown eyes---I don't even know if brown was the color. Light, light brown, with (a color I can't remember) hue around the pupil. Voluptuous lips. A small space between her two front teeth. Hair worn as a shampoo and roller set most of her life. Beautiful woman.
She became engaged to a professor from the University of Kentucky, but my grandmother and the family was kind of ignorant at the time (1950's, 60's) and had her break off the engagement to him, as he was from India, and said that if she did not, she would be disowned. It was a painful decision, but she did so. She sent his ring back to him from Franklin, Ohio, where he had helped her find a job, her first job.
She taught in Harlan and pursued extra courses in Science around the southern area of the country and Ohio State. She made many friends, and kept in touch with them, until her death in 1994. She would also come back to teach in Franklin, and in 1972, decided to make Franklin her new home, her new grounding.
One day, she was having a meal at a restaurant called Jerry's, a restaurant across the street from where she rented a room, in a house owned by Bernie Culp, a long standing member of the Franklin community. The waitress told her that a gentleman was asking about her. My mom told the waitress she would be sitting across the street on the porch if he wanted to join her when she got done eating. He joined her and she found he was divorced. She said she wouldn't see him until he produced divorce papers, and he did. They started to see each other. He came from a large family in town and she had a difficult time keeping everyone's names straight, as everyone had nicknames. He owned a lawn care business and had just moved back to Franklin from Washington state, where he had relocated with a family. He left the family behind.
My mom and dad were married November 2, 1973. He wanted to renovate houses and sell them for profit, and they moved into one of those houses after they were married. It was not in good condition. and my mom was not happy with the conditions. She had just gotten married and was living in this crappy house. She found out in March of 1974 that she was pregnant with me, amidst ill affairs between my dad and his sisters. The business was failing and he was having problems with men that worked for him (who also were co-workers of my mom's). He didn't have the money to send to his children in Washington state and was no longer speaking to his sisters.
One July, Sunday evening, he and my mom were on their way to a second job of his, which he took over from my uncle who had passed, and he talked almost prophetically that he was going to die. "If anything ever happens to me, don't go back to Kentucky to live. That baby is going to be close to your heart." He was a janitor for a bank in town and he went outside to trim the hedges around a pool of water and never returned inside. My mom waited inside the bank and she decided to go check on him. She found him lying down. She called the police. He was dead. She stopped by my aunts' house to tell them the news. "He's gone," she said. "Oh, he's just blowing off steam. He'll be back," they said. "No, he's dead," she clarified. He had the wallet on him and they were going to put gasoline in the car on the way back to the house, which was in Middletown, so one of my aunts went with her to the gas station and paid for the gasoline and went on with her to the hospital.
I was born in November.
I want to be heard, and I want to talk. I think my Talking is the only way I'm going survive the next 15 months (when the program, Save the Dream, stops making my mortgage payments).
There's a Stuart Smalley quote, "I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me!" and this is how I feel, and it gives me inspiration to try to Get Myself Out There.
This blog says a lot about me, but not my past, and not enough about my Present. This is my attempt to get something out there, and if a lot of people could refer what they read to everyone they know, I'd appreciate it. I want to be known. (If Google's Blogger Statistics are true, it seems that 700 people have viewed my posts in Russia and Europe, but none in the US. Pass this on, and don't pay much attention to my early posts. They are really very stupid)
________________________________________________________________________________
My name is Cindy, although, on my birth certificate, it says, "Katherine Lucinda Taylor." I went through school having to explain why I was called Cindy, when my first name is Katherine. "My middle name is Lucinda, and that's how I get Cindy." I was born on November 20th, 1974, at the Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati, Ohio. I live in Franklin, Ohio and have my whole life. And, I'm 39.
I was an only child, to a beautiful, incredibly smart and wise woman, Bernice Yvnonne Boggs Taylor. She was from Harlan, Kentucky. I spent many vacations in Harlan, and I have solid memories of it. I feel as if it were a second home. My mom knew people and people knew her. She knew people well, and I loved seeing her meet some of them and talk to them. I could tell there was a past, but somehow the past wasn't really past. It was as if she was grounded there, and I know she was. It was her grounding. It was her home. It was belonging. Kind of like the "Cheers" theme song, "where everybody knows your name."
She almost didn't go to college. Her self esteem was lacking and she felt tied to her family and the demands of being the oldest child and oldest sibling. House chores were her job and always had been, as my grandmother was a school teacher, coming from Illinois on mission work to the hills of Kentucky to teach the Appalachian people. My grandmother worked all the time and went to college to complete her own school work. My mother cared for my aunt, who was nine years younger than her, My mother was two years older than her brother. My grandmother left my mother in charge of everything, except discipline of my aunt. She fought with my aunt over her taking a bath and would have to drag Cleta to Aunt Artie's house to take a bath, and Artie would have to bribe my aunt or prod her, to take a bath. My grandfather was a work horse, who started out in the coal mines and then, later to a lumberyard and a bakery. He was a very kind man, sweet and sincere. I loved my grandfather and my grandmother.
My mother made excellent grades, and a college recruiter from Union College came to their house and sat on the front porch and persuaded my mom to go to college. She excelled, too, at Union, majoring in biology. She graduated and went straight to the University of Kentucky where she obtained her Masters degree in Education, in 1959. Extraordinary woman.
She was a brunet and had such a unique color of brown eyes---I don't even know if brown was the color. Light, light brown, with (a color I can't remember) hue around the pupil. Voluptuous lips. A small space between her two front teeth. Hair worn as a shampoo and roller set most of her life. Beautiful woman.
She became engaged to a professor from the University of Kentucky, but my grandmother and the family was kind of ignorant at the time (1950's, 60's) and had her break off the engagement to him, as he was from India, and said that if she did not, she would be disowned. It was a painful decision, but she did so. She sent his ring back to him from Franklin, Ohio, where he had helped her find a job, her first job.
She taught in Harlan and pursued extra courses in Science around the southern area of the country and Ohio State. She made many friends, and kept in touch with them, until her death in 1994. She would also come back to teach in Franklin, and in 1972, decided to make Franklin her new home, her new grounding.
One day, she was having a meal at a restaurant called Jerry's, a restaurant across the street from where she rented a room, in a house owned by Bernie Culp, a long standing member of the Franklin community. The waitress told her that a gentleman was asking about her. My mom told the waitress she would be sitting across the street on the porch if he wanted to join her when she got done eating. He joined her and she found he was divorced. She said she wouldn't see him until he produced divorce papers, and he did. They started to see each other. He came from a large family in town and she had a difficult time keeping everyone's names straight, as everyone had nicknames. He owned a lawn care business and had just moved back to Franklin from Washington state, where he had relocated with a family. He left the family behind.
My mom and dad were married November 2, 1973. He wanted to renovate houses and sell them for profit, and they moved into one of those houses after they were married. It was not in good condition. and my mom was not happy with the conditions. She had just gotten married and was living in this crappy house. She found out in March of 1974 that she was pregnant with me, amidst ill affairs between my dad and his sisters. The business was failing and he was having problems with men that worked for him (who also were co-workers of my mom's). He didn't have the money to send to his children in Washington state and was no longer speaking to his sisters.
One July, Sunday evening, he and my mom were on their way to a second job of his, which he took over from my uncle who had passed, and he talked almost prophetically that he was going to die. "If anything ever happens to me, don't go back to Kentucky to live. That baby is going to be close to your heart." He was a janitor for a bank in town and he went outside to trim the hedges around a pool of water and never returned inside. My mom waited inside the bank and she decided to go check on him. She found him lying down. She called the police. He was dead. She stopped by my aunts' house to tell them the news. "He's gone," she said. "Oh, he's just blowing off steam. He'll be back," they said. "No, he's dead," she clarified. He had the wallet on him and they were going to put gasoline in the car on the way back to the house, which was in Middletown, so one of my aunts went with her to the gas station and paid for the gasoline and went on with her to the hospital.
I was born in November.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Here at McDonalds (again), but I can type, or at least I think. Clipped my nails and filed them. Yay.
So, I can type.
I'm out later than usual. Tried to take a couple naps. Let Janie the dog see the sun go down before putting her up in the bathroom, which I usually do before leaving the house.
Life, life, life.
It's got to get better.
So, I'm just sitting here, watching the Fox station that they have on here at McDonalds and listening to the music they have going---Serious XM??? Something like that.
Huckabee program on.
I miss the more than 3 channel tv, and I hate most of what is on it. I'm a prude now, I guess. Undercover Boss episode last night had no over-cover on the girls on it last night. I can't believe it was on CBS. I would classify it as minor porn. But, there's a restaurant where women/girls walk around with their chests hanging out, or what is on their chests, and there's nothing wrong with it. Wow. The other night, on the Big Bang Theory, you could see almost down this girl's shirt. Basically, what was on Undercover Boss. Except they were just hanging. More than I care to see, and I don't know why there's "nothing wrong with it." Someone, tell me.
I love McDonalds food and that is so bad. I love French fries. I love their Grilled Chicken McWraps. There must be a ton of salt in the Wraps because they are so good.
I only try to come to McD's once a week, but as you can tell from, "Just sitting here at McDonalds" all the time, I've been here more than once a week. Trying to deal with it in the budget, too.
I had a coupon for "Buy a McWrap and get a free fry and drink."
Something very interesting happened last week but I'm afraid to write about it publicly. I got propositioned by a married man and it had been ensuing for about 14 years. There's more to say but I won't.
I could eat a couple more things.
Could talk about my best friend I lost. I called her sister more than a month ago, and I pried into about Luann. She told me that they were on a trip cause Luann and her husband were buying and selling cars. On their way to buy a car. Then, I had a friend call her sister and see what happened with me and Luann. She said something about what I perceived as Luann not wanting her kids around me. That Luann was homeschooling her kids and she herself had some problems Luann was helping with--that she didn't have time or something like that for me.
Hurts. Hurt.
Trying to be thankful for what and who I have. So, here I sit. I've got a coupon for "Buy and McCafe drink, get one free," and I'm thinking about that. Maybe get them in the drive through and sit outside and drink them. A Small one, I would get.
Well, later.
So, I can type.
I'm out later than usual. Tried to take a couple naps. Let Janie the dog see the sun go down before putting her up in the bathroom, which I usually do before leaving the house.
Life, life, life.
It's got to get better.
So, I'm just sitting here, watching the Fox station that they have on here at McDonalds and listening to the music they have going---Serious XM??? Something like that.
Huckabee program on.
I miss the more than 3 channel tv, and I hate most of what is on it. I'm a prude now, I guess. Undercover Boss episode last night had no over-cover on the girls on it last night. I can't believe it was on CBS. I would classify it as minor porn. But, there's a restaurant where women/girls walk around with their chests hanging out, or what is on their chests, and there's nothing wrong with it. Wow. The other night, on the Big Bang Theory, you could see almost down this girl's shirt. Basically, what was on Undercover Boss. Except they were just hanging. More than I care to see, and I don't know why there's "nothing wrong with it." Someone, tell me.
I love McDonalds food and that is so bad. I love French fries. I love their Grilled Chicken McWraps. There must be a ton of salt in the Wraps because they are so good.
I only try to come to McD's once a week, but as you can tell from, "Just sitting here at McDonalds" all the time, I've been here more than once a week. Trying to deal with it in the budget, too.
I had a coupon for "Buy a McWrap and get a free fry and drink."
Something very interesting happened last week but I'm afraid to write about it publicly. I got propositioned by a married man and it had been ensuing for about 14 years. There's more to say but I won't.
I could eat a couple more things.
Could talk about my best friend I lost. I called her sister more than a month ago, and I pried into about Luann. She told me that they were on a trip cause Luann and her husband were buying and selling cars. On their way to buy a car. Then, I had a friend call her sister and see what happened with me and Luann. She said something about what I perceived as Luann not wanting her kids around me. That Luann was homeschooling her kids and she herself had some problems Luann was helping with--that she didn't have time or something like that for me.
Hurts. Hurt.
Trying to be thankful for what and who I have. So, here I sit. I've got a coupon for "Buy and McCafe drink, get one free," and I'm thinking about that. Maybe get them in the drive through and sit outside and drink them. A Small one, I would get.
Well, later.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
At the meeting place
Well, I'm at the meeting place now. I think I'm just going to sit and relax for a few minutes.
How I need a manicure. Need my nails trimmed/cut and filed. I hate typing.
It's about 1:40 as I begin to write, or "relax."
Something that bugs me about the job program (is that the title I gave it, described it a couple minutes ago?) is that I don't know anything really specific, and this subject interrupts my "relaxing," but thought I'd say it. I don't know how exactly---there's an agency that goes along with the agency and "helps" me find a job, I think. Mark, my Case Worker, pulls up openings though on websites, sometimes, and tries to propel me to go out on my own and get a job. I'm looking for things in the Human Services field, because I have a degree in Psychology and almost a Masters in Special Education. The woman that is involved with the Job Program suggested MR/DD, which has been changed to just Developmental Disabilities. It's nice those first two letters got dropped---the MR.
15 till 2:00.
Well, I am going to close and yes, try to relax.
How I need a manicure. Need my nails trimmed/cut and filed. I hate typing.
It's about 1:40 as I begin to write, or "relax."
Something that bugs me about the job program (is that the title I gave it, described it a couple minutes ago?) is that I don't know anything really specific, and this subject interrupts my "relaxing," but thought I'd say it. I don't know how exactly---there's an agency that goes along with the agency and "helps" me find a job, I think. Mark, my Case Worker, pulls up openings though on websites, sometimes, and tries to propel me to go out on my own and get a job. I'm looking for things in the Human Services field, because I have a degree in Psychology and almost a Masters in Special Education. The woman that is involved with the Job Program suggested MR/DD, which has been changed to just Developmental Disabilities. It's nice those first two letters got dropped---the MR.
15 till 2:00.
Well, I am going to close and yes, try to relax.
Just sitting here at McDonalds. Have a meeting with a friend at 2:00. It's around 12:42 as I start to write this. Got time on my hands, as is obvious. Obvious in another way. All I have now is Time.
Those two people who didn't email me back emailed me back. Good.
I am accepting the "schizophrenia" diagnosis, because I need help, and it helps me get help. I have a Case Worker who helps and I just met with him. I'm trying to get involved with a program that will help me get a job. It's frustrating. It's a process--the program. Mark, my Case Manager, thinks I can get a job easily and be gainfully employed.
I'm in counseling.
I feel life is hopeless but I have no choice but to keep going.
I need to clip my nails and file them, but I dread doing that. A manicure would be nice, though I don't want to spend the money on it. It's a little difficult to type.
Did I say anything yet about the stupid thing I did in mortgaging a paid off house? Perhaps I don't feel like going into that right now.
I may sign this off now and be on my way and bring back it back up when I get to my meeting place.
Those two people who didn't email me back emailed me back. Good.
I am accepting the "schizophrenia" diagnosis, because I need help, and it helps me get help. I have a Case Worker who helps and I just met with him. I'm trying to get involved with a program that will help me get a job. It's frustrating. It's a process--the program. Mark, my Case Manager, thinks I can get a job easily and be gainfully employed.
I'm in counseling.
I feel life is hopeless but I have no choice but to keep going.
I need to clip my nails and file them, but I dread doing that. A manicure would be nice, though I don't want to spend the money on it. It's a little difficult to type.
Did I say anything yet about the stupid thing I did in mortgaging a paid off house? Perhaps I don't feel like going into that right now.
I may sign this off now and be on my way and bring back it back up when I get to my meeting place.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
So, I'm sitting at McDonalds at the moment. Blank page, looking at the Blog Screen. That Blank page makes it difficult to know what to say, in a way.
I miss my friend. Did I mention I lost a friend? Best friend. Talked every day, almost. When life was good. I can't believe the things that have happened. Can't believe it/them.
Not sure if anything I've said on this Blog, of Everything, makes any sense.
I am going to be on a very fixed income soon. Very fixed.
I've been reading a great book by an author named Anne Lamott. Grace Eventually is the title of the book. I love how she writes. I hope to be able to write that way some day. I could go on in volumes of how I love how she writes. I bought the book, lost the book and found the book. I was greatly perplexed when I lost the book and very grateful when I found it. She writes so honestly. Honestly. I love that! The book is separated in sections and incidents in her life with her perspective or is it perspectives---Her thoughts. So great to read.
I need to meet with someone who's going to look at my budget with me in a few minutes. I left my cell phone at home, as I've been doing, and I'd like to call and let her know I'm on my way, but, oh well.
Yep, miss my friend. I think about things we'd talk about, things that confuse me and maybe her. It was that the things that confused me, confused her, and the things that confused her, confused me. How I miss that, being able to talk about those things. Maybe this is going to be an " I Miss Luann blog" now. Luann.
I wish I had internet connection at the place I live, because to me, blogging is something you do when it "hits" you to do it, not making time for it, or "I have the time now," kind of thing.
I don't get "hash-tags," number/pound signs before titles of things on TV. I think she'd have the same confusion or answer to it. She sometimes had answers for my confusions.
Did I say she was my Best Friend? She was. She was my Best Friend.
Two people I've emailed haven't emailed me back. Hope I didn't make a fool of myself in any way.
I miss Luann.
I sent her a letter, inspired by something Anne Lamott did, when Anne lost a friend.
I need to meet people.
Miss Luann.
May not seem like it, as I've said, "I miss Luann," several times, but I think my anti-depressant is starting to work. I feel differently when I say, "I miss Luann." Sort of not as sad, although that doesn't make sense. It's like I'm just "saying it."
But I'll say it again, I miss Luann. I remember one time I had kind of lost touch with her and called when things in my life had gone bad. She welcomed me. I wish it were the same this time.
Well, I should, now, go meet with that friend--I might postpone the meeting for tomorrow.
If you pray, pray for me, whoever would read this.
I miss my friend. Did I mention I lost a friend? Best friend. Talked every day, almost. When life was good. I can't believe the things that have happened. Can't believe it/them.
Not sure if anything I've said on this Blog, of Everything, makes any sense.
I am going to be on a very fixed income soon. Very fixed.
I've been reading a great book by an author named Anne Lamott. Grace Eventually is the title of the book. I love how she writes. I hope to be able to write that way some day. I could go on in volumes of how I love how she writes. I bought the book, lost the book and found the book. I was greatly perplexed when I lost the book and very grateful when I found it. She writes so honestly. Honestly. I love that! The book is separated in sections and incidents in her life with her perspective or is it perspectives---Her thoughts. So great to read.
I need to meet with someone who's going to look at my budget with me in a few minutes. I left my cell phone at home, as I've been doing, and I'd like to call and let her know I'm on my way, but, oh well.
Yep, miss my friend. I think about things we'd talk about, things that confuse me and maybe her. It was that the things that confused me, confused her, and the things that confused her, confused me. How I miss that, being able to talk about those things. Maybe this is going to be an " I Miss Luann blog" now. Luann.
I wish I had internet connection at the place I live, because to me, blogging is something you do when it "hits" you to do it, not making time for it, or "I have the time now," kind of thing.
I don't get "hash-tags," number/pound signs before titles of things on TV. I think she'd have the same confusion or answer to it. She sometimes had answers for my confusions.
Did I say she was my Best Friend? She was. She was my Best Friend.
Two people I've emailed haven't emailed me back. Hope I didn't make a fool of myself in any way.
I miss Luann.
I sent her a letter, inspired by something Anne Lamott did, when Anne lost a friend.
I need to meet people.
Miss Luann.
May not seem like it, as I've said, "I miss Luann," several times, but I think my anti-depressant is starting to work. I feel differently when I say, "I miss Luann." Sort of not as sad, although that doesn't make sense. It's like I'm just "saying it."
But I'll say it again, I miss Luann. I remember one time I had kind of lost touch with her and called when things in my life had gone bad. She welcomed me. I wish it were the same this time.
Well, I should, now, go meet with that friend--I might postpone the meeting for tomorrow.
If you pray, pray for me, whoever would read this.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Well, Now
This is the most depressing blog. I am not any better in life, kind of worse. I am on SSI, $710 a month, because of my problem with hearing someone not in the room talk to me. I hear someone not in the room talking to me. I have a college degree, almost a Masters in Special Education, and I hear someone not in the room talking to me. It started in 2007. Not sure if I ever divulged that. I think I did, once.
I am the stupidest person in the world. I mortgaged a paid off house. Mortgaged a house that was Mine.
I have been lucky not to lose it up till now and a program called Save the Dream is going to help me stay in it for the next 18 months but Social Security is going to take $257 from my $710 a month.
I have lost a friend. A very good friend. My best friend.
I would like this whole blog to start over as I type this, Now. Start from here.
Going to go through a state program that can help me get a job.
I am all confused on this blog thing anyway. I had one that was something like, www.going to be on Oprah someday.
Things have got to get better. Got to. Just got to.
Will go now. Wonder where this will show up.
I am the stupidest person in the world. I mortgaged a paid off house. Mortgaged a house that was Mine.
I have been lucky not to lose it up till now and a program called Save the Dream is going to help me stay in it for the next 18 months but Social Security is going to take $257 from my $710 a month.
I have lost a friend. A very good friend. My best friend.
I would like this whole blog to start over as I type this, Now. Start from here.
Going to go through a state program that can help me get a job.
I am all confused on this blog thing anyway. I had one that was something like, www.going to be on Oprah someday.
Things have got to get better. Got to. Just got to.
Will go now. Wonder where this will show up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)