J. cleaned today. He saw dirtiness that I had long since stopped noticing and took care of it. Seeing the rooms was like getting glasses for the first time. Everything looked sharp, clear and...dust-free.
N. hurt Sterling because she scratched him. He didn't apologize and just sat, looking remarkably demonic. Like one of the little boys at the end of Rosemary's Baby. I won't go into detail about what happened but we'll definitely be "ending the match." At first I was equally sad about losing N. and Sterling being hurt. I got really angry though as we were taking him home. He needs psychiatric help and his mother is so...drugged up? mentally deficient?, it will be a miracle if he graduates from high school without getting in serious trouble.
So I sit, enjoying a tasty Anchor OSA in a clean room, bummed out and wondering about nothing in particular. You can either fight or accept and sometimes neither option seems appealing.
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