And the Madness Begins...
I'm now officially homeless but have a roof over my head. Because I've become indigent, the county of Los Angeles awards me $221 a month for what they call "General Relief." Through a social services agency I located a place that's not a shelter. Shelters are the absolute worst place to stay, I hear. Anyway, I'm living in a "Sober Living" apartment complex a few blocks away from my last apartment. I'm sharing a teensy two bedroom apartment with J. and C and am paying $220 a month for the privilege. I'm sharing a bedroom with C. I've got the upper bunk. Did I mention that there's no door to the bedroom and the only way to the only bathroom is through this bedroom?
J is about 35 years old, very personable, works out, takes tons of body building supplements and isn't hard on the eyes when he's got his shirt off, which is always. He's clean from using "dope:" I don't know what kind of dope but he's spent time in prison because of it and doesn't want to go back. I support him in that. He keeps the apartment tidy and the floors clean but the rest of the place reeks of dog and cigarettes and is a bit grimy. J. seems like he may have trouble with impulse control.He has the only private bedroom because "I can't take living with these guys in the same room." I completely understand. He is to receive a rather tidy inheritance and will be leaving in a few months. I can have his bedroom when he leaves. I see that as a bright spot on the horizon. He also has a very sweet pit-bull named B. She greets me with wiggles and kisses when I come in. I find this to be very charming.
My other house-mate is C. C is about my age but looks older. Takes a powerful zombie-fying medication and seems to be a true-blue addict through and through. He is recovering from meth addiction and goes to UCLA twice a week to participate in a study about, well, meth. He's got a mush mouth so I have to ask him to repeat things. He doesn't sleep and doesn't understand the concept of "please turn the TV off so I can sleep" and "please don't smoke in the bedroom." He'll turn the TV on and blaze his cigarette when he thinks I'm asleep, which is never because he's got the dammed TV on and is smoking. I fell asleep in math lab today.
When I got home last night C. told me he made toast with my bread. I saw the toaster on the counter and smelled toast and thought: "Whats two pieces of bread?" He offered to give me a dollar for the bread he took and I told him it wasn't a big deal and I left to get ready for bed. Whilst in my perch, I could see C. taking about 8 pieces of bread out of the oven. This is from a $5 loaf of whole wheat, whole grain lusciousness that I bought because I was in a hurry and didn't check the price. Silly me.
This morning he asked me if we were going out to breakfast and I told him I was having Cheerios. He asked if I had sugar and I told him no, I don't use sugar on cereal but I sometimes will put a banana in with my Cheerios. His face lit up "You got bananas!?" I told him no and he went away. Then he came back and asked if I could give him $2 for french fries. I told him no, I didn't have it. A few minutes later he asked to use my phone. And so it begins...
He told me he goes to UCLA on Mondays and Thursdays for a meth study and gets up at 4am and hoped he didn't bother me. He said he gets a $20 Ralph's voucher each time he goes. On Thursday he said he'll make fried chicken. According to him, his fried chicken will knock me down its so good, even J. likes it. I think he's trying to set me up for a future negotiation. Lordy, Lordy, I do like myself some good fried chicken, but I think that kitchen needs to be disinfected with a fire hose spraying bleach before I'll feel comfortable eating anything that comes out of it. Blech!
My first night there I was so exhausted mentally, physically, and spiritually because of, well, everything: losing my apartment, selling/donating/throwing out and giving away 90% of my furniture and moving what's left of my belongings into storage. I now own a bed and a chair that makes into a bed. The chair has dried cat barf on it. I don't know why I keep it. Some friends who bought my art deco side board helped me move. I rewarded their generosity with many power tools and surplus china that I have no use for in the immediate future. Anyway and back to the point, I'm marking my time there by making hash marks on the wall next to my bed.
When first I was confronted with all the loss of stuff and status I was horrified. I was horrified when I saw where I will be living for the next few months. I'm coming around and getting over it and keeping my focus on school this semester and summer school in June and July. I'll be cat sitting for P. and R. for five weeks starting late June when they take off to go hiking in northern India. So not all hope is lost. I'm applying for SSDI on Monday because I'm really not in a place where I can work full-time because of the ever present drug and therapy resistant depression I have. I'm also hoping to get a housing subsidy sooner than later now that its official I'm homeless. I've been on the waiting list since 2009 and now need to update my status to my new reality.
So there it is. A new adventure. Anyone want to adopt me? I'm a great cook. You should try my fried chicken, It'll knock you down.
J is about 35 years old, very personable, works out, takes tons of body building supplements and isn't hard on the eyes when he's got his shirt off, which is always. He's clean from using "dope:" I don't know what kind of dope but he's spent time in prison because of it and doesn't want to go back. I support him in that. He keeps the apartment tidy and the floors clean but the rest of the place reeks of dog and cigarettes and is a bit grimy. J. seems like he may have trouble with impulse control.He has the only private bedroom because "I can't take living with these guys in the same room." I completely understand. He is to receive a rather tidy inheritance and will be leaving in a few months. I can have his bedroom when he leaves. I see that as a bright spot on the horizon. He also has a very sweet pit-bull named B. She greets me with wiggles and kisses when I come in. I find this to be very charming.
My other house-mate is C. C is about my age but looks older. Takes a powerful zombie-fying medication and seems to be a true-blue addict through and through. He is recovering from meth addiction and goes to UCLA twice a week to participate in a study about, well, meth. He's got a mush mouth so I have to ask him to repeat things. He doesn't sleep and doesn't understand the concept of "please turn the TV off so I can sleep" and "please don't smoke in the bedroom." He'll turn the TV on and blaze his cigarette when he thinks I'm asleep, which is never because he's got the dammed TV on and is smoking. I fell asleep in math lab today.
When I got home last night C. told me he made toast with my bread. I saw the toaster on the counter and smelled toast and thought: "Whats two pieces of bread?" He offered to give me a dollar for the bread he took and I told him it wasn't a big deal and I left to get ready for bed. Whilst in my perch, I could see C. taking about 8 pieces of bread out of the oven. This is from a $5 loaf of whole wheat, whole grain lusciousness that I bought because I was in a hurry and didn't check the price. Silly me.
This morning he asked me if we were going out to breakfast and I told him I was having Cheerios. He asked if I had sugar and I told him no, I don't use sugar on cereal but I sometimes will put a banana in with my Cheerios. His face lit up "You got bananas!?" I told him no and he went away. Then he came back and asked if I could give him $2 for french fries. I told him no, I didn't have it. A few minutes later he asked to use my phone. And so it begins...
He told me he goes to UCLA on Mondays and Thursdays for a meth study and gets up at 4am and hoped he didn't bother me. He said he gets a $20 Ralph's voucher each time he goes. On Thursday he said he'll make fried chicken. According to him, his fried chicken will knock me down its so good, even J. likes it. I think he's trying to set me up for a future negotiation. Lordy, Lordy, I do like myself some good fried chicken, but I think that kitchen needs to be disinfected with a fire hose spraying bleach before I'll feel comfortable eating anything that comes out of it. Blech!
My first night there I was so exhausted mentally, physically, and spiritually because of, well, everything: losing my apartment, selling/donating/throwing out and giving away 90% of my furniture and moving what's left of my belongings into storage. I now own a bed and a chair that makes into a bed. The chair has dried cat barf on it. I don't know why I keep it. Some friends who bought my art deco side board helped me move. I rewarded their generosity with many power tools and surplus china that I have no use for in the immediate future. Anyway and back to the point, I'm marking my time there by making hash marks on the wall next to my bed.
When first I was confronted with all the loss of stuff and status I was horrified. I was horrified when I saw where I will be living for the next few months. I'm coming around and getting over it and keeping my focus on school this semester and summer school in June and July. I'll be cat sitting for P. and R. for five weeks starting late June when they take off to go hiking in northern India. So not all hope is lost. I'm applying for SSDI on Monday because I'm really not in a place where I can work full-time because of the ever present drug and therapy resistant depression I have. I'm also hoping to get a housing subsidy sooner than later now that its official I'm homeless. I've been on the waiting list since 2009 and now need to update my status to my new reality.
So there it is. A new adventure. Anyone want to adopt me? I'm a great cook. You should try my fried chicken, It'll knock you down.