Letters from Sanford Street # 533

It's Sunday morning after an event at the stadium, and I'm just not able to find parking at my apartment complex again. Pain oh baby what a pain. It's just the way it goes, I guess. I went to eat at Waffle House this morning.

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It's so damn annying when there's nowhere to park. It's not clear to me why this happens, or what I should do about it. My guess is that there are more people lihing here than before. 

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I wonder about what to do, if there is anything that I can do. Or what. If, maybe, this is just my life right now.

It's not a big deal.

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Jesus. To me. This means leave this place, but where the fuck do I go?

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This is a nightmare. A real fucking nigtmare. Maybe I need a change, but what change?

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Where would I go? I don't what else to do. I don't know where to go. I am totally out of fucking money. I really am.

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There isn't anything that requires me to stay here.

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I was finally able to get parking after circling my complex for about an hour and a half.

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I guess it's also Easter. So, I had the odds stacked against me when trying to park this morning.