Saturday May 5th

I’m going to say something cliché.

I don’t know what I was expecting out here, but it certainly wasn’t this. I already feel so alone. I don’t want to touch anything in my living quarters and the family isn’t as warm as I was expecting them to be.

Everything so far is isolated and quiet and matter of fact.

There’s also a lot of poop.

I don’t know who I’m going to befriend, the buckaroos? 13year old scott? The cook who only habla espanol?

My one potential is leaving in a week. His name is Walker, a24 year old cat whose name is quite ironic considering he’s limping around. I’ll try to catch a picture if I can.

Anyways, we’ll see how things go. Until tomorrow!

Oh ps. Did I mention I sleep next to a slaughter house?