I just know she couldn’t possibly understand the constant fear and the related stress of not knowing how the hell you’re going to afford summer care so you don’t have to leave your nine year old home alone all day long. The constant fear of EVERYTHING.
I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.
I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.
