Not too stir crazy yet...
Welcome to my "home" which doesn't really feel like my home anymore, but my mother's home. But I know that every time I say that, she dies a little bit inside.
Queen Georgie
(commonly mistaken for a boy...NOT A BOY!)
Sofia.
The only pet, besides my stuffed animals that I am suitable enough to be completely responsible for. That realization came a few days ago when I accidentally dropped Markie's beta fish, Wesley, down the garbage disposal. Traumatizing.
Pile of crap.
Lastly, here is the remainder of my (still packed) belongings that I've been refusing to acknowledge still exists. Actually having slight withdrawals for my jail cell sized dorm, estrogen loaded hallway, and the communal showers. Basically all if it, besides the shower shoes. I loathed the shower shoes.
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