I’m not posting about this separately on Facebook, though I will link to this there, and don’t count on me doing much replying right now.
I got a visit from Elizabeth today. I have been informed that my sitting up here not bothering anyone is taking up too much of her energy. I could count on one hand how many times we’ve interacted in the past month. That’s right, month, not just the past two weeks but anyway, that seemed to be the most important thing to her, even more important than the rent, which I had only managed half of. I had hoped to be able to give her something for the third week by the end of this weekend. Maybe I should have told her that days ago but we’ve seen I can’t trust people already and I had no reason to believe this was any different.
So I have until midnight tonight to vacate.
9pm. I can’t even have that last three hours. I can do it, but I won’t like it as well. More later.
I have basically no money. I have to rent a locker again or I will not be able to sleep in my car. I’m going to sell a couple things today and maybe I could get a room from that but I won’t hold my breath. I would be better served bearing down and getting a weekly room somehow. It won’t be InTown Suites. They refuse to book anyone until the beginning of next year. Already checked the site. All three locations.
So it was, “you are taking up too much of my energy” and “your actions affect people around you, you know.” She reminded me a bit of Dad there. Not so much his words as his attitude. Acting like my mere existence, not bothering them, not doing anything to them was somehow the worst possible offense ever. Look, I get it. Half rent is no good and I’m no longer on a lease anyway. That bit right there would have been sufficient reason to say “please leave,” though in her shoes I might have said “you have until Monday” given that IT’S THE WEEKEND. “I’ve been in your shoes” You got rescued by a man who sells real estate, lady. Don’t talk to me about shoes.
I said it though, didn’t I. This is the sort of woman who starts out all kind and affectionate and then turns on you. Saw it coming miles off.
I hate the way most of society ignores people like me in my particular situation but it beats being told someone cares about you only to have the games played. I’ll say it again: we have not interacted all that much. There were times I’d even ask her reasonable questions about things, and this was back when I had the Quantum job, and she wouldn’t answer. Pat was still alive at that point and that was what took up her energy. Not me. I make a great scapegoat. It never ends.
I feel like I want to ramble on about this but it will eat into my time. Storage place closes at 7pm. What a joke: it’s the one near where I used to live. Good thing I know I can handle being near the old house. It’s half the price of the Worthington unit. Wherever I end up, as long as I pay they won’t care.
Oh and if she thinks she’s ever going to come after me for my part of the electric bill, nope. She can go crying to my credit report. I literally live across the driveway from her, and not once has she said “okay I have the information together, come get it” or “can I come over with the bill, are you home.” It was “I don’t have your email address.” Well, you had it at one point. You must not have cared enough, then. Nothing I can do for you. Sorry.
I’m thinking about talking to the shelter in Delaware. It was implied I could do that after 30 days. It’s been well more than 30 days. I don’t want to be there again, but there are worse outcomes.
I also wonder if she’s the reason I got booted from the rehousing program. Which could have gotten me out of this mess. I won’t ask, though.
Anyway. Onward.