Well, here it is, autumn, or fall, as we call it in the south. It’s getting dark at 7:30 pm now, and I must go to my room early. My roommate is already asleep. I am wide awake. If I go to bed now, I will wake up at 1:30 am with no hope of further rest. Everyone here at this personal care home retires by 8:00 pm. Bummer. There is nothing for me to do and nowhere for me to go. I really don’t look forward to a whole winter of bedtime at 8:00, sleepy or not. I don’t look forward to staying at this place anyway. There are no activities planned for us to do. The one common television has all of one channel-no cable. Owner makes us responsible for everything she can think of. Our bathtub chair is broken. The legs wobble and the back is halfway off. I told caregiver about it, and she relayed owner’s nice message to me: ” Bathtub chair is your responsibility, not mine. However, if you will give me $50, I will get you a chair. ” Generous soul. I looked on my Walmart app and found a bathtub chair for well under $50, and my daughter is ordering it for me. Now, if, by buying this chair myself, I am expected to put it together myself, then I will call the Ombudsmen. This is getting ridiculous. I was left, when I was switched to this room, to move all of my things in here myself, and this included a box, a medium sized box, of books. I was being moved to this room because I was not getting adequate sleep and rest at the room I had been in. Fact was, I was exhausted. My roommate snored, got up several times a night, and sleep became precious to me. On the day of the move, caregiver, the same one who has moods the way other people enjoy Cokes, set my bed up with the mattress upside down. Said it was fine and left the room. I turned it over. She left the springs pushed too high on the platform where they sit, so I was banging my shins in metal forms as I made my bed. She never once offered to right the situation until I mentioned it to her in my mean mother’s voice. Who is this woman, anyway?? Well, it just looks fixed. It’s not. It rained in the window yesterday. The window was closed. I was busy enjoying my cell phone and all it has to offer, so I didn’t notice until, getting up, I set my phone on the bed and found my throw on it soaked! I got up to investigate and found it raining ☔️ on my hand! I fetched Miss Moody, and she put plastic garbage bags over the window and mopped the floor. Later on that afternoon, I was permitted to dry my quilt and throw in the dryer. How nice. I can only wash my clothes once a week, so I thought Mood Mama would tell me to wait, but she just made me wait instead. Caregiver doesn’t bother with verbal communication. Why go to the trouble when we’ll figure it out sooner or later, and if not, she can blame us for keeping her from doing her work! Once a week I wash my jeans and towels, washcloths, etc., so I never am afforded an opportunity to wash my shirts. Neat, huh? I haven’t figured this one out yet. Jo, the golden girl, washes whenever and as many loads as she wants. Me? One stinking load. It’s not fair, and I am resenting this favoritism. I am resenting the scolding lectures Moody Caregiver gives me. I am nice to her. I am beginning to believe she has some sort of mental condition. High as a kite one week, angry as a lion in a cage the next. This woman has also begun cutting down on our food. I am always hungry. Everyone has their own food. I have to go back to Walmart to get some food because, for instance, soup on Saturday night. Bowl of soup. I got 1/2 small bowl with some corn chips. Brownie for dessert was not large enough to call anything more than a taste of a brownie. She’s selling food again. I am so tired of this arrangement of living. This arrangement? Get treated ugly and respond nicely. Right. Go to bed hungry and like it while the owner shucks her foster kids and one adopted kid and goes traveling. She doesn’t care what happens here. I froze today along with the other 5 because caregiver turned on the air conditioning in 55 degree weather. I am angry. I am weary of being mistreated when my kids tax money is paying for me to stay here. These places are nothing but scams.