Countdown to Homelessness...2 days to go...

Score: Angels: 10—Jackals: 4

Phone died today...died....dead...never to be booted up again... and the whole day was spent getting a new one... that's what being poor is like...things that normally would take an hour, end up eating up your whole day or two ...and of course, (LOL) at exactly the worst moment!

It's two in the morning on the day I'm going to post this... I've hit my head twice on the keyboard falling asleep—so please don't expect anything coherent. Looking at places, scared to ask at some if they can handle subsidized renter... Section 8 is more like Section 8888 with its 5 year waiting list, but I'm discovering that some places are working around it. Found an artist's loft today that may fit our situation... Can't see it until Thursday...

My son nearly broke my heart yesterday when I asked him if he could handle going back to the 'hood. He looked up at me and hesitated, and then said,

If I have to, I will. But, Mom—Dude! I've really gotten used to being about to just walk around...

The end of that sentence is ...without having to defend myself from some jerk who's looking to jump a white boy for points. I raised him in Frogtown, which meant that he and his friends weren't allowed to go outside of the yard and sometimes—even out the house, if it was a particularly active night in the 'hood.

It is such a simple request: Mom, can we live some place where I'm not a target? Where I don't have to watch my back 24-7? Where I'm not worried about bullets coming through the dining room window? (Yep... that happened—the shooter was aiming at a car driving down the street. Our house happened to get in his way... at 3:00 in the afternoon as all the school buses were dropping kids off...If I hadn't taken a break from working at the dining room table, I very probably would have been hit—the trajectory of the bullet was right through where I usually sat...)

Well, I told him, we'll end up where we end up and we'll make it into another paradise...watch. He grinned.

The number one thing to do in the morning is go to my landlord and beg for another week. Cross our fingers that we can reset the countdown stopwatch... more papers, more phone calls... so much time lost today.

Note to self: Do not let the bastards see you sweat...

But, I get the uncanny feeling that I'm not at all behind. That we're going to be in the right place at the right time...There are so many new people entering my life and a few old friend re-entering from the past...people who are very changed....some by much bigger hardships than mine.

At the moment, the score is: Angels: 10—Jackals: 4—

I can't figure out why I feel so grateful...

Copyright 2009 Stephanie Ericsson All Rights Reserved