(01/09/00)["Everything needs repair."] I am in an apartment. I am looking at the rooms. I see two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a narrow closet like room with a toilet in it. I am telling my mother that I have 2 or 3 of those. It is odd the door is so narrow I can barely squeeze in to use the toilet. My mother gets in fairly easily. The walls are that old bumpy plaster from old houses. In bad condition with bad colors on it. I look in Charla's room and see her bed is missing. I remember she has it in my room as she usually does. Later, I am in the living room. I want to organize and clean. I see piles of things all over each piece of furniture. I am tired of the disorganization. I see some shelves high on a wall but as I look more closely, they are thin old wood boards that won't hold much. I need more space. In the living room, I sigh and say to my mother, I wish this was cleaner. I leave the room and come back in. My mother is seated in a round 1950's kind of chair. She has rearranged all the furniture. I am impressed. It looks like I have more space. There are two dining tables. One rectangular and normal. The other round and black. But the top of it breaks off. Now that needs to be fixed. I see a curtain like a hospital room curtain. I look behind to see what mess might be stashed back there. Not bad. Pretty clean. Now I go to the back door and try to open it to step out on the back porch balcony like things. Some young men are hanging out there talking. The hinges on the bottom half of the dutch door break off. I work at repairing it. It breaks again. The stops I put in the hinge are pink and gooey. I give up, going in, shutting the top part of the door. Then I shut and lock the regular door to keep those young men from coming in.