I woke up this morning early, feeling eager. I thought about the house and some things I can do. I suddenly realized that I absolutely hate this house. It has been neglected for 40+ years and has so many problems. It is so cluttered that I can't clean, and getting rid of things is like declaring war. I understand why I hate this house. It is like a dreary, worn dungeon that creates nothing but stress. It is left in the will to me, but I've decided I don't want it. My mother has been holding it over my head, telling me I need to fix this and that on it. This is not a little thing. It is a daily stress she adds by coming up with some problem for me to fix. I have gotten where I shut down anytime she mentions the house, but I didn't understand why until this morning. I hate this house, and I can't wait to get out of it and leave it to the bulldozers.