30 minutes…

My son and I are in the spare bedroom. It is our official reading room. Free of noise, electronics, extra stimuli, etc…

He has to read for 30 minutes every day and answer questions. It’s new and I love it. I’m supposed to be reading too, but I think it’s a good as any time to write.

If I have time I delay the timer so that he gets a couple of extra minutes reading in.I know it’s a cheap trick, but he really needs to read more.

This is my room. In every house I’ve lived in as an adult I’ve always been able to eek out some room for my crap. Yes I said crap. It’s awful that I have the attention span of a flea. I collect junk, paper, craft stuff with the intention of making something. I have enough equipment to start a hobby shop. It all comes here to be stored and eventually forgotten. Sad but true.

This time around I’ve managed to procure a nice little day bed and coordinating bedding. I’ve painted the walls beige. BEIGE… the drainer color when I was a kid, but suitable for a comfortable adult room.

I’m working on this. It’s a work in progress. I intend to finish it soon though. I need a refuge from the constant noise in my house. I truly hate the tv.

I am currently sorting a huge tv for my sister in here. It needs to go. I’m over it being here. It annoys me. It’s a visual reminder of how hurt I am at her running away from my house to go live in poverty with her buddies. I’m a little jealous that they get to have her. But I’m relieved that she’s with people she cares about. If she doesn’t want to be around me that’s ok.

She invents reasons to avoid me. She tells people she’s ok when she’s obviously not. Her phone is turned off. She’s lived like this with her husband and 3 kid for 20 years. They move when they feel unwelcome. They live like kings on $50 bucks. They live off of the government, welfare and it’s everyone else’s fault that they are in need.

It sounds crappy, but it works for them. I sometimes wish I could issue a big “Fuck you”, wave my middle finger in the air and let the govt support me, but I can’t. Honestly, I’d get caught. I have instant karma issues…

The tv pissess me off. My home want good enough for her, but my room is good enough to store her shit. I really have to do something about that. I will, maybe tomorrow, or next time I see her…

After thats gone I can get the bed in the right spot and hang my pictures and shelves for knick knacks. I have a jewelry hanging display project that I want to do, but I’m sticking to my guns and will not buy the materials until the tv’s gone…

So never… at least the bed is comfortable.

30 minutes is almost up. Tata for now.

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