THE SKYLIGHT IS LEAKING-ST J LUNCH SUNDAY

 AT 6AM I  WAS MAKING MY OATMEAL AND THE FLOOR FELT STICKY.  I GOT THE TORCH BECAUSE DAD'S FLORESCENT LIGHTS WEREN'T WORKING, OF COURSE.  AT FIRST I COULDN'T SEE ANYTHING.  IT HAD JUST STARTED.  THE COVER IS TWO YEARS OLD, GUARANTEED FOR 5.  I'LL CALL TOMORROW.

I TRIED TO BLOG FROM THE SUNNYVALE LIBRARY AND GOOGLE ASKED QUESTION WHEN DID I START THIS BLOG. 

IT'S MOST ANNOYING I CAN'T ACCESS MY ONLINE ACCOUNTS UNLESS IN SANTA CLARA.  THE I-D PROCESS I CAN'T MANAGE.  OH, WELL.

THE SMALL PATIO ROOF CORNER OVER SLIDING DOOR AS WELL.  I PUT BUCKET TO STOP SUBSIDENCE.

DAD IS NOT GOING AWAY WITHOUT A FIGHT.  WELL, HE'S CONSISTENT.  HE CAN'T WIN AND HE HAS TO PUT IN HIS TWO CENTS.  HE SHOULD SAVE IT FOR LATER.  MOM HAS NEVER BEEN FOR HER KIDS.

EVERY THING WITH THE HOUSE DEPRESSES ME.  DRAGS ME BACK TO MY CHILDHOOD, MAKING ME FEEL HOPELESS, HELPLESS, INCAPABLE.  ALL DAD'S FAULT.