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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/905167
Rated: 18+ · Book · Biographical · #1960296
The history of Prosperous Snow written for the group Reminiscences
#905167 added February 21, 2017 at 1:54pm
Restrictions: None
April 27, 2014
Sunday morning in Las Vegas, with temperatures that remind me of Blackwell, Oklahoma. I don't remember it being this chilly this late in April, but perhaps I'm experiencing a senior moment when it comes to the temperature. I'm glad it isn't hot, I'd rather have lower then average temperatures then average or above average temperatures.

I shiver this morning when I woke up; however, that could have been more about my health then the temperatures. When I checked the local weather the temps were in the high fifties. I haven't checked them since I logged on about 7:00 am; so perhaps I should check them again after I finish this.

It's been a busy morning, I composed one blog entry and responded to a journal prompt. I also reviewed four short stories before I logged out to fix me some breakfast and then finished putting away the clothes I wash on Friday. I had to wait until today to finish that because I needed a large Tupperware container to put my t-shirts in because I don't have enough hangers or closet space to hang them up.

When I moved into this studio apartment I knew I would have some adjustment. I moved from a three bedroom and four closet house to a one room (two rooms if you count the bathroom) apartment with a tiny closet. The top of the closet has items that I need to send to Frank and Tom, but I can't do that until I get some money ahead. Right now my finances are as tight as my living space.

On the bright side, I now have a new broom and mop. I can start cleaning the floors and getting rid of some of the stuff I brought with me from the house. I've been here almost three months and I still haven't gotten my living space arrange properly. I also need to get into a routine concerning taking the trash to the alley. I'll have to roll the trash out today and then put the cart in my trunk so that I can go to Lutheran Social Service tomorrow, that is if I decide to go. I may just wait until May to go because I have plenty of food in the fridge and some Farmer's market coupons left.

I don't want to get so much food in the fridge that I have to throw some out. I'm the only person in the house right now. I'm living alone and I expect to be living alone the rest of my life. I'm not sure that I could deal with someone else at this stage of my life. I could be wrong, of course, I'll just have to wait and see about that.

I'm getting tired of sleeping on the love seat, but perhaps if I get some of the packing boxes from away from it I might feel differently. The love seat is so short that I have to curl up when I sleep or put my feet on one of the arms if I stretch out. Either way it's uncomfortable and I can't lay that way for a long time. At least, my back doesn't hurt on the love seat like it does on a regular mattress, so I guess there is some advantage to sleeping on it. Besides, the love seat is the only thing that will fit in this apartment.

If intend to move sometime in the next six to twelve months, I need to increase my income to at least $800.00 a month. I don't know how I'm going to do that, I'll have to discuss it with Baha'u'llah. I know I just have to continue praying and having faith because there is no other way to survive. I need to get back into a routine and that's difficult right now.

Maybe the problem is that I'm attempting to follow my old routine and my present situation requires a new one. The only thing I can do is keep trying and experimenting with routines and schedules. I also have to send some items to magazines and online publications to see if I can earn more money then what I have at present. It's interesting that my back doesn't hurt sitting in this hard wooden chair. I have only two chairs in this apartment, one of them is a metal folding chair I brought with me when I moved and the other is a wooden chair that was in this aparatrment when...


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/905167