Our house is being taken and sold in January, regardless of our living situation. We have one month to figure out how to not be homeless, and the likelihood of the entire family sticking together in one place is really, really small. My father decided, rightfully, that the church that wanted him would be like all the rest that had troubled him in the past. I told him that moving there would be, living a tortured life just because you know you were living in a house. He will probably still do it, even though he will be away for five days(an improvement over the three weeks now) and working all weekend on church stuff. I think it's impossible. I think it will kill him (we have a family history on my father's side of people dropping dead while working). But he will still do it, most likely, because it is a house.
One month.
I wish I was living on a campus, one specifically. That was nice, living somewhere that you were pretty sure you could stay. I got to live somewhere that I loved for eight or so months, surrounded by people I came to love, learning stuff that I loved.
That was really nice
But the chances of going back there are nonexistent. I guess things could be worse, I could be homeless now, and I don't actually believe I ever will be. It is just very odd to be this close to it.
That is why I am not entirely joyful these days
And to be honest, I actually feel a little bit better now that I know why.
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