Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes. Keep it as written, don't change a single word, but improve grammar where necessary.

An open letter to one of the CNAs who helps out throughout the week here at the Joshua House. It is my sincere hope that this finds you in good spirits. I met with the house manager yesterday morning, and am relieved to inform you that at long last I finally have an official laundry day. You no longer have to worry about me doing clothes two days a week, though if emergencies arise and a critical item that I need to wear--such as one of my work shirts, which are mandatory for me to wear for what I do in the kitchen--has been compromised by any significantly unsightly stains or other means of visual deterioration, I would humbly like to reserve myself the right to wash them on other days, provided that anyone who has been assigned laundry on a certain day has already taken care of it and none of the washers/dryers are already in use. I would also like to humbly apologize for what apparently has turned out to be a false diagnosis, when I pointed out--incorrectly, from what I've since been told--that a certain housemate has colitis. It seems she has a tendency to make things up, or recall parts of her past that are no longer applicable to who she is in the present. As I am not her doctor nor am I responsible for administering the medications, I will continue to trust--just as I've always done, though you may be of a contrasting opinion in that regard--that you and the staff know what they are doing. Though the very few efforts I have made to point things out have always been with the best of intentions, and never from a place of trying to make myself look good or righteous in others' eyes, I'll keep silent to the best of my ability from now on, believing to whatever extent I reasonably can that we are in good hands. Additionally, I would like to apologize for becoming a 'time monopolizer' (my term, no one else's) when a couple relatives of a housemate came by to visit several days ago. They were there to spend time with a loved one, and I realize now that all I had to do was to say 'hello' and get back to whatever I was doing. From now on, I will make sure to interact as little as possible with these people. If they are not here to see me, then there's no need to make it about me. With all of that being said, there are a few things I would like to say, humbly, with my whole heart. First of all, please rest assured that it was never my intention to try and 'take charge' here at the house. From the first day I met you, I have done my best to be respectful of the authority you have as the head person in charge when our house manager is not here, knowing she cannot be here all the time. Humbly, I feel I have done a good job. Please understand that I would never presume to tell you or anyone else how to do their jobs. When I spoke out on the aforementioned housemate's behalf, prior to our attending a screening of "The Sound of Music" last week at the Boca Black Box, it was out of a genuine concern for her well-being. I was trying to look out for her, as I have heard her speak more than once about feeling neglected, about feeling as though the staff here don't really care about her or her needs. It had nothing to do with trying to make myself look good, or give you 'instructions.' Believe it or not, though I may portray traits of confidence in my daily life, speaking up is still one of the hardest things for me to do. It takes a lot to make myself vulnerable. To this day, for example, it is hard for me to cry in public. On a reflex, I try to suppress every tear, as the stigma it creates of making a man look weak is still prevalent in our society, just as it was when I was a child, all those decades ago. I have always had a sensitive personality, and was severely shy in my youth. Only in the last few years have I truly managed to come out of that shell, and that took every ounce of courage I have. There are many things I will never know about you, but the opposite is also true. You have not even begun to scratch the surface of the surface, and I say that with nothing but love. I would never dare presume to know more about my housemates and their needs than you and the rest of the staff do. While I do not understand their medical needs, I have gotten to know them from an emotional standpoint. If you will forgive me, I would like to give you more insight into not only how my mind works, but some of the things I have been through over the course of the past year. Back in October, I lost both of my parents in nine days. Imagine losing the only two people who ever truly cared about you, who told you could be anything you put your mind to and believed it with their whole hearts, who gave you the roadmap for you to become the person you are today, in less than two weeks. Imagine what it must feel like to spend the next few months in a sense of purgatory, not knowing from one day to the next if you will get a very unfriendly notice in the mail telling you that you have 30 days to pack up your belongings and find somewhere else to live, or a summons to go to the courthouse to take care of certain matters relating to your loved ones being gone. Imagine being an autistic man in a world that was not built for the needs of autistic people, having to navigate all of this. Think about how overwhelming it must feel to have multiple people come into your life, none of whom you had any intimate experiences with beforehand as your parents had made their best efforts to keep work and home life separate. Imagine being told of this magical place where you will be able to live and have all of your needs taken care of, filling out tons of paperwork, and--to give you one example of some of the things I had to deal with--staying in the waiting room of a local doctor's office for over three hours to complete a residency requirement that took less than five minutes. Imagine finally arriving at this new place and realizing on the very first day of being there that while you signed on to keep a roof over your head, you signed away a lot of your freedom. Imagine having expectations that you put up with, including getting whisked away to events that you would never in good faith have attended of your own volition back when you were a 'free' man, because if one person goes, everyone else does (unless they are lucky enough to have someone sign them out for a brief taste of life beyond the tiny bubble they're in). Imagine spending every day of your life in the presence of people who--for the most part--don't care about you, who are there to pick up a paycheck, have their own families and challenges to deal with, and work at least one other job because this doesn't pay enough for them to cover all their expenses. Imagine being forced to be in what essentially amounts to a mental hospital for several hours a day, taking solace in the few friends you have while being mostly surrounded by mentally unstable people, some of whom threw away every opportunity they had to be somebody and make a difference in this world, while others never had a shot at that to begin with. Imagine several hours going by, and getting nearly to the end of meeting that daily obligation, being thankful for being able to make a few dollars as you are mentally and physically able to work in the kitchen, and waiting to hear one of the many apathetic staff members--their hearts hardened by years of dealing with the same things day in and day out, arrogant enough to believe they could never have ended up in the same place the 'clients' are in though they do a good job of hiding such arrogance--announce the name of your house over a walkie-talkie system with reception so bad you can only half the time discern what is being spoken. Imagine seeing vulnerable people get verbally abused by others who don't understand them, and wanting to speak up but keeping quiet, because in your mind it is best to not get involved. Imagine going through a day while getting almost no positive, loving energy from others, seldom hearing anyone tell you you're appreciated, or make you feel you are worth something to this world. Imagine never hearing "sweet dreams" before going to sleep, or a gentle "good morning" when you wake up. Imagine knowing that you are only here as long as the money is there, for that is all you are truly worth to the ones who run this show, and realizing that once the well dries you will be on the street. Imagine spending every waking moment of your life missing your parents and telling yourself that it is just a bad dream. Imagine telling yourself it will be okay, and telling others you are fine, while visualizing yourself standing on train tracks. Imagine holding onto a fleeting hope that you will wake up, knowing it will never happen. There is no waking up. Now imagine going through that every single day, and maybe then you are about 1% of the way to understanding the full extent of what I deal with. I know you are only human. You have your vulnerabilities, just as I do. I know what it means to feel powerless, to feel as though you are not in control of your life. We feel it in different ways, but to the same degree. I do not know how long I am going to be here. Certainly, you do not know how long you will be here either. But as long as we're both here, I hope that we will be able to interact in a manner of peace and harmony. If you have ever felt intimidated by me or by the courage I try to show, I apologize, for that was never my intention. However, please understand that courage is now all that separates me living the life my parents fought for me to have from becoming a slave to others' whims. Knowing I have this power of communication, I also know I am obligated to speak up fully, truthfully. I can speak for no one but myself, but I can tell you beyond the shadow of a doubt that no one in this situation has asked to be here. Somehow, a lot of men fell in love with a lot of women, and a lot of condoms broke. (Maybe some of them did not use a condom.) We did not ask to be born, and yet here we are, trying to make sense of a world that could never make sense to us, or of us. This is one of the hardest things I have ever had to write. It is probably one of the hardest things you have ever had to read. But not writing this would have ranked among my most significant regrets in life. I wish you and your family all the best. Warm regards,Cameron McCaffrey.