Friday, September 2, 2011

Real-Life Instability

Okay, next week is probably going to see me absent from SL for an extended period of time.  There are some reasons for this that I'll explain here.  I'm posting this in case anyone who reads this blog wonders why I'm not online.

The happier part of my explanation is that I've not only started classes again at college, but that after nearly four long years I've finally got a job — with the college itself!  Okay, it's a part-time position with a maximum allowance of twenty hours per week; this is because college policy forbids the institution from saddling student employees with so much work that it hinders their academic pursuits.  It's also minimum wage, so I really can't sustain myself with it.  Still, it's better than nothing and I for one am supremely grateful for the position, which came at a badly needed time.

Which brings me to the monumentally screwed up part of my explanation.  It's long and may be a bit rambling, but please bear with me.

Back in July my younger brother decided to barge in on me unannounced — no phone call or e-mail to let me know he was coming over.  He takes a look at the clutter of my living area upstairs from my parents, and decides to give me one of his patented lectures on how I live my life.  Since I was unemployed, had no access to on-site laundry facilities or money for the laundromat, and extremely limited space to put things, naturally things are going to pile up.  I'm not saying I couldn't have made more of an effort to keep the place looking better than it did, but my situation simply does not allow me to do much, especially when I am literally forbidden access to cleaning materials needed to help keep the place up.  I make do with what I have.  Anyway, I told him to fuck off as anyone in my position would, and the little stain left promising to call the authorities and have me forcibly removed from the house.

Then, on August 5th, he brought over two women from the county board of mental health services to evaluate me — again with no prior announcement whatsoever.  After asking me some rather stupid and insulting questions, they left.  Whatever he hoped to "prove" to the board of mental health about me, it was a spectacular failure on his part.

So Monday the 8th comes along.  Another unannounced visit.  Younger brother hands me a thirty day notice signed by my mother to vacate the premises.  If I'm not out by the 7th of this month, they will proceed to deliver a three-day notice.  When I've failed to move out by then, a court hearing will be scheduled to evict me.  That take anywhere from two to three weeks, maybe less than two weeks.  It really depends on how busy the court docket is.  If I can't convince the magistrate to give me more time, I will be rendered homeless.  It is highly unlikely that I will be able to keep a roof over my head.  This may, in fact, be the last entry I'm able to make for a long, long time.  It may be my final entry, period.

All I can really do at this point is to try to convince the housing court magistrate that I've just started a new job and that I am willing to begin paying rent again, albeit with a firmly established and legally binding lease agreement that will protect me from unlawful retaliation, and hope that he or she gives me the necessary time to save up and move back out on my own.  After so many years of unemployment, and with wages stagnant while the cost of living goes up exponentially, it really is extremely tough trying to live in this country (the Corporate-Owned States of America).  It is unforgiving to the poor and without mercy.

Wish me luck, offer prayers, send money if you can and you're willing.  Because if I become homeless, I really don't think I will survive.  I probably won't starve; I bought the college meal plan and so will be able to get at least five meals a week until the end of the semester as long as I can keep my student identification card.  My job will provide me with regular enough income that I can replenish some of what I've spent of my financial aid money and, I hope, save for a cheap apartment somewhere and store my belongings.  But I can suffer and die from exposure, and news articles I've read on how homeless people are regularly assaulted by everyone from cops to spoiled rich kids fill me with dread.  To say that I am scared would be an understatement.

That's it for my explanation.  I hope to see (and be seen by) my friends soon.