I awake every morning to saturated sheets. I may drown from crying.
Maybe this GRPL card, which I found on my bureau, which I now tap against the steering wheel, is my life jacket.
Gentry Road Community Center is quite close to Great Rooms! I cut a paranoid swath to avoid being seen by any employees, yet I pass Isaac in his Lexus. Beyond providing hot meals to the indigent, hosting senior citizen sock hops, and providing space to assorted groups, the cinderblock center is also a floodwater retreat and a bomb shelter. I wouldn’t chance it saving my life, but I’ve decided to let it try and save my sanity. Just please let this not be a free-for-all series of snot-rag confessionals. I’ve been here before. It was how I earned a bleeding ulcer. A group of homeowners in the working class neighb
