This is what Charlotte writes.

10.18.07

The perfect room. Everything is in its proper place. The floor is spotless, and even though it is carpet it seems to sparkle with cleanliness. The room is perfect. Stepping inside is like walking into a Sunset magazine photo spread. Hallucination revelation, delusion of being Martha Stewart. It’s a crazy rush of domestic glee to glace around. Until the alarm rings and I open my eyes and gaze blearily at the mess that is my room, my real room, 17 years of accumulated crap and no end in sight. The after image of my dream room lingers on my retinas but no amount of will power will ever bring it to reality.