Here I am. This is me. I was sitting atop an ironing board in the room in which I was made. It's interesting in here. There are a lot of colors. Piles of stuff, fabrics, papers, boxes, some items my fluffy brain doesn't know what they are. My maker plopped me up here and told me to smile. She took my picture and told me I'd get to write about it, about what it's like to be here. I am not sure what to make of it. Everything is big. Bigger than I thought. I am finding typing to be interesting, since I have no fingers. It takes me a while.
I wonder what my maker will do with me tonight? Last night, my first night, I sat in this room, alone. It wasn't too frightening. There were some sounds and I tried to decipher them. All I came up with was some snoring and a loud furnace that sang in a high c minor all night. I admit, I was afraid to move. Actually, I am not even certain that I CAN move, except to type. So my hands work, apparently. I wonder what else I can do? I am so excited to see everything outside this room!