I found two legal pads lying around (my first love, I believe really). They were a God send when I was a senior in high school and took over the culinary program for Chef.
And they kind helped this time but barely. Just barely. Everything is still a jumbled mess and it it hard to categorize and list when everything twists and turns and points to each other.
“It is all their fault!”
Like a five year old, really.
I just referred to my (issues? Mental health? Disorders? Disabilities? Bitchabouts?) whatchamacallits as children.
This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.