Tales From The Shelter – 27
This is Stephen. He is now around 40 years so probably doesn’t have too much of a hairline left. He’s a schizophrenic living somewhere in Vancouver (probably downtown east side but ya never know). His mother would really like to hear from him to see how he’s doing, it’s been a while. She loves him and would like to be in his life. He can contact the Salvation Army to leave a message for her.
FUCK! I’m tired. Tired of being tired, tired of being sick, sick of being tired, etc. ad nauseum.
Four days to go to payday and some of the gals on our floor are hovering like vultures. I’ve had it, I’m not giving out one more cigarette and I can’t stand the way some suck up to ya for one. Barf!
Tele-Tubby One HAS to be doing crack. I mean, every few nights she’ll go out to meet her boyfriend and she comes back in pale as a ghost. It’s the pontificating about crack that really gives her away. Teletubby numer two has to have another nickname, she’s given up on watching the idiot box, at least for now.
It’s been a few days since I last wrote. The confines here are really getting to me and Bossy thinks she’s my wife or something, she wants to know what I’m doing every moment of the day and the other night when I was out having a smoke and plugged into my music she stormed out muttering , “I came all the way out here especially to hear about your day!!!”. Ya? Well too bad, you know that when I have my ear plugs in I don’t want to talk. Now she wants to go somewhere on Saturday together and I’m thinking, ah….no!
The house phone is right across from my doorway and some people talk really loud, especially retarded Martha. After having asked people to keep their voices down, Martha has been the only non-compliant so I moved the table back and reversed the chair to face a wall and not my door. Martha changed the configuration back , so I changed it again. Martha changed it again and put a note on the table and chair saying not to move stuff around. I moved ‘stuff’ again and left a note saying ‘Stuff will stop moving around when inconsiderate people learn not to talk so loud’.
The tensions are mounting here and it looks like Bossy and Martha are headed towards a blow out. Summer is over, it’s autumn, we are going into hibernation mode and the weather has had us staying in more so the proximity to neighbours has narrowed. I cried all day and night the other day. Something has to give.
I went for my third appointment to an organization that’s supposed to help people with disabilities re-enter the job market. Unfortunetly the organization is disabled. My worker asked me if I was saving any money. Heh? Save money on $400 a month??? She looked at my job preferences and when she saw I put down advocacy work she told me a lot of people write that down but she doesn’t know of any courses available , and that some get work doing that but she doesn’t know how they find it. Heh?
Then she asked about housing and I said I was still not in stable living conditions. So she printed out places to rent from Craigslist. I told her that room shares were not an option for me and she said I may have to. Heh? She printed out places that were $500/month or more and I told her I can’t afford that. She said I had to pretend I was working and look at things that way. Double Heh???? This woman obviously has no concept of what it’s like to live on a disability income.
She told me I’d be suited for retail sales or warehouse work based on my work history and what’s available. Ya right, as though I’d be good at or enjoy being a sales clerk at Zellers (which she mentioned). Get a grip woman!!! Oh ya, and that would be minimum wage so, like, I am only capable of working part time so how’s that going to add up to pay over $500 in rent plus utilities?
This organization must be a Gordon Campbell philosophy of the poor.
I’m not going back there.
The Three little pigs should be millions of slime who make up this wretched world but for now the biggest affecting me are Stephen Harper, Rich Coleman and John Baird (because he is and looks like a pig).