Why would you use two hands to make one note? / #360 Switched At Birth

Being alone makes me depressed. Maybe it was alright when I was kid and didn't know what I wanted, or maybe it was alright because I wasn't actively looking, just observing. But now I have developed needs for myself. I have a need to belong. I have a need to feel noticed and to have my contributions acknowledged. I feel like less of a kid. This is not because of my age but because of the weight of responsibility laid upon me. I have less chances of screwing up, more expectations of me, and wants from me.

I started a load of whites. There's blacks and a mixed pile of coloreds. Weeks run together. I've been using a car freshener as a calender. This morning I was able to muster some will and rationale to divvy up my dirties. I had an empty hamper on the same day I aligned the the bottom part of the tree with "Week 1." There are now four large-sized loads on the floor, and the tree that was so diligently tugged every week is now out of the bag.

I need a new a tree. For the hamper.

The legacy of my parents can't keep on. I can't live my life like a sidebar in a magazine. I can't just be a novelty that grabs everyone's attention. I want meat and potatoes. I want to be the articles that warrant a subscription. Management has expanded me into an adult I never imagined myself to be: working twelve hour days without gripe, doing whatever I need to do and shutting the hell up about about it. Not that I believe stoicism is a necessity or that work takes precedence over expressing emotion, but trudging along without constant gratitude or praise is a skill that before this year was unknown to me. How ever talented I may feel about something, or subjectively superior, I have to recognize that praise is a rarity and doing good work is just a part of the job. Having a life means not just living your own but allowing others to participate in it. I've done an excellent job of taking life on my own terms, but I still need to improve on sharing it with others who mean a lot to me. Maybe this will prevent another college level debaucle or having another family member fade into obscurity.

Where's my girlfriend? She needs to come over.