next to the Beast

mixed. tossed. stressed out. it has been one of those moments recently when things just seem to be on a shift-& the full moon is over or so i thought. the house has been wearing on me-i get accused of being a “gossip” when i don’t Talk. much like today because some princess in hideous shoes & gross pants sits down next to me with 2 laptops, first of all that is a BIT extreme in a cafe-to add: one is a Mac/one is a HP neither has a black screen to shield the person sitting next to the Beast.

she stares me down with her fugly top gun glasses & accuses me of “snooping” when i was turning my head, because this is a public place. i told her that if she wanted privacy-the library has rooms you can reserve & No one can see in. Lucky for me the barista shares my view. if you want privacy you can simple work @ home & pay extra for your “privacy” eh. anyway, she is obviously Late to work & from my guess is also confused, working on 2 laptops is a BIT much. she’s using 2 tables on what has been a busy afternoon for the place i go.

it’s ironic as i have ONLY encountered the temperamental lately-i broke down yesterday as i reached my breaking point with all the gossip in the house, we have a new patient there someone who is quite sick-& is Very Unhappy. she has been complaining about the stuff that doesn’t change, the staff that remains the same, gossip, not being liked. i could write her laundry list in this entry, but i am not going to. the house is what the house will always be a place for women to NOT get out of being homeless. in that regard the program is a failure.

i am beginning to count down my last month, it’s the only way i will survive it. being threatened to lose my federal welfare check has angered me this week-the doctor hasn’t turned over my paperwork & i may or may not have my meek, lame benefits next month. tomorrow i get to spend the morning on the phone-trying to figure out the whole mess that is not my fault but our poorly managed welfare system. i was told in no uncertain terms that i can’t work, with a meek $339 a month & being told that really angers me. the system essentially doesn’t work to get out of…

argh. lame. hence, i feel that i have the Right to get emotional when things sitting in my life this way. i know things will get better, there is only one way to go & that is UP. somehow i hope that i will beat the system instead of becoming someone who is chronically homeless& destitute. seeing the part of the society that can’t keep bathrooms clean or clean up their own rooms after themselves is sad. there is no demand for the women in the house to keep a tidy room, although there should be. there is no demand for the women to get a volunteer gig, or a job. it’s essentially a poorly maintained warehouse for women, or as someone else put it an all expense hotel. i am Happy i will soon be checking out of, only a month to go. till then i hope to Avoid Beasts in cafe’s….

theViewfromWhereIam

i live in a transitional shelter, where the women i live with only obligation is to find housing & lie around sleeping beautiful summer days away. where fights erupt over burners, cigarettes& clothes usually stolen from the wash. i do a chore everyday, it’s a small penance for having a roof over my head. the house is wave, sometimes it’s calm-with the full moon coming the wind comes in & attitudes begin to flow. here’s a small summary of the women i get the experience of seeing everyday.

“diva” is what it said on her shirt, she paraded around the house for a few hours so everyone would get a good look @ our low class felon that did a few days in the slammer last month. i had a tough time telling her that she wasn’t even close to “diva.” maybe a HMB, but not a “diva.” she cleans her cadillac out every few weeks & draws attention to her ever expanding rear end by wearing clothes not suited for women her size & flirting with the often drunk/high street homeless men that surf through our neighborhood. when the fire alarm recently rang she went over & low & behold they all came over & bummed from the women waiting outside. what a champ.

or maybe i should dedicate a few lines to a woman that has become a fashion accessory in her bathrobe, it’s her new coat & she parades around the house in it All Day. her hair pulled back with fashionable bandannas or hairnets. she claims she is from the east coast—her days revolve around smoking, sleeping & pacing in her bathrobe. her new activity is tagging me-meaning that she follows me around the house to the point that i have had to go to the staff.

then there is my neighbor who i share the bathroom with, who still lives very much like a man, not a woman. her room is filthy& she claims that sex isn’t between the legs-it’s in the mind. ah-wait not quite. she uses foul smelling body spray & cheap pink bottles of shampoo, along with high priced shaving cream she uses for her face & not for her legs. she wants to be woman, her attitude& the state of her room that staff has taken notice of more than once tells another story.

i take my bus pass & i Escape. i find corners in coffee shops& places i can blend in & for a few hours feel like my life is a bit more than the tiny room i have with a door. more than the chore i have to do everyday. that i Again will be something in this world. what Never escapes how close i am to being back in the street shelter. i don’t think it’s a feeling that will ever go away until i am in a stable, calm environment i am working towards everyday. i Believe that i can get myself to a better place, it is what i have to believe.

seekingChange

it’s a monday, i am dreading returning to the house filled with drama & lame rules. i am not looking forward to entering my tiny room & wondering if i will encounter the shelter bully that has been tagging me for most of the last month. i missed the fire alarm going off the other day, one of the women parading herself in front of the homeless men that share our alley & our disgusting car port. i miss the fights in the kitchen, arguments over stoves. i had coffee with one of the women in the house the other day & she said don’t they realize that they are still Homeless too. i doubt it.

last year i can remember like it was yesterday how bad my night was before i got into the transitional shelter i am in now. i was harassed by one of the bullies in the street shelter, she was having a rough day & i became her target. she called me useless, a nobody, nothing. it was venom that changed my life. the next day i left the shelter for a new one. i visited the street shelter a few months back & she was still there, spewing her anger. i felt sorry for her that she couldn’t take her anger & form it into something Positive. something Good.

i am grateful for no longer being on the street, wondering where my head will end up. i realize how close i am even being in the transitional shelter i am in now. i have lousydays, days that i feel like i am still @ the bottom, days that i feel like i am not going anywhere. but then my phone rings or i have a good conversation with somebody & the bleakness goes away. i know that one day i will become someBody. till then i will have determination to get myself to a better place, because that is something i know i can do. it’s the determination i have in my step& the friends who are there through all of it. lousy days always become Good days if i let them.