Restless

I can't sleep. Maybe I can fix this. I can find out what my parent's charities were and move them back in the house. They should have told me this might happen. Somebody should have.

Shit. Those letters.

I just remembered. When I first moved in here, there was big a stack of mail, so I ignored it. It got bigger, but there started to be things for me sometimes, so I would see it, and one day, I was really bored and went through it. There was all this stuff from the center for this, association of that and the something foundation. I thought they wanted more money, and they were so clearly marked, I just threw them out, and I threw out all the new ones when they came in, too. I fucked up.

It gives me a plan though. I'll wait for more letters, and I'll go to the places they're from, and I'll ask them, politely, if they want to use my house again. Simple.