I have filled most of the rooms in this house with books, magazines and toys. I have an OCD thing about bits of coloured pasteboard and round things. I have flatware I found smashed in the road. I have little ducks and big ducks and Daffy Ducks all over the place.

I am about one pay check from living on the street. My landlord keeps talking about selling the place. I haven't a ghost of a chance to get a loan to buy it myself.

I have a vehicle in the garage, but it hasn't run in almost a decade. I ride a bicycle or walk everywhere I go.

I have almost no furniture and most of it was given to me. I have no fridge, no microwave. I use my computer, an antique, on dial-up. My phone is one that my provider gave to me. I have one functioning pair of jeans that I wear to work. I wear shorts when not at work, or nothing at all. I have a pile of t-shirts, most of them yellow, with things i have written or drawn on them.

It took me years to learn to pay bills. That's right. Something as simple as taking money and giving it to a utility was beyond me. Once upon a time, I couldn't boil water. I was afraid of the stove. I was afraid of fire. Now I've been a smoker for thirty years. Go figure.
I had trouble telling left from right. I still don't know where north is.

I had to learn to drive a stick shift three times. Some tasks, when I don't perform them often enough, I have to relearn.