Anxiety is waiting for the mail. Oh, and for news of your monthly food stipend. And being stuck here on a hill when your lungs and legs and heart ain't of no great help don't help matters none any. I need a scooter. A fold up scooter I can take on the bus when a bus is called for. For that I'm going to need donations, so send what you can.
Make it easier for me to get out of the house.