What I've Been Up To

I told my grandmother I would write her a letter but instead I'm looking at old bookshelves online. I do need a new bookshelf, I keep bringing books from back home and leaving them in the closet. Home. I guess it's time to stop using that word.

She prefers the old things. Letters, recipes on index cards, really anything to do with handwriting. I have to admit that I am of the school of thought that believes it's on its way out. It's not completely gone now but I find myself signing my name slower. Am I getting all the letters in, are they in the right order. We're taught so many things that they never tell us we'll forget so soon.

It doesn't have to be that tall, but tall would be nice. An interesting color would be good, although I could always decorate it myself. I'm not much of a crafter, let someone else throw on some olive green paint and distress it for me. What am I paying the $75 OBO for anyway?

It wouldn't take long. I could type it out, get all my thoughts out quickly. That's what I no longer like about the pen, it just can't keep up. I could write a sentence here, look at shelves, another sentence, click to the next page, it'd be over before I knew it. This is what I've been up to.

I spend too much time at my parents'. I am fighting them turning my room into a room they could use. I have a whole life in boxes there. That life is getting transferred to my hall closet. I don't have enough money to put it on display. I have been here for years and have never felt quite right. It's all one big stepping stone. Now are these the things a boys should say to his grandmother?