Happy to be Alive

It's 28 degrees, but the sky outside is Mid-Summer Blue. I'm indoors, yet, and there's a radiator at my feet, but my hands are covered in gloves and I'm in the same jacket I wore to work. I'm not nearly warm enough yet to take it off. Most days, the jackets and sweaters never come off. Here in the office, anyway. Or, should I say, the warehouse, cos that's what it technically is: a warehouse functioning as an office.

Yesterday, the Super turned the heat on. By "turning the heat on," he heated up the radiators throughout the building. All of a sudden I could hear the SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! of steam coming up through the pipes. I admit the sound alarmed me; new the north, I'm not used to heat being manifested that way. I was concered there was gas (of a noxious nature) steaming out of a pipe, filling the room with carbon monoxide or some other such odorless toxin. No, no. It was only warmth. Vague warmth, but an attempt nonetheless.

Tomorrow I'm flying to Sacramento, CA for the Thanksgiving holiday. Actually, I'm not going out there for the holiday, but it is an excuse to miss days from work. My friends Melody and Susan are having a little girl and she's expected this weekend sometime. While I'm out there, I'll see my extended family, whom I have't seen in years (some of them I've never even met!). Kaela, if you're out there, you should make an attempt to see me, as I've no means to come find you.

Anna is leaving today for Ohio to visit her son, Jakob, and fulfill her familiar obligations. We hate that we're apart for the holiday, really, for most days, but the holidays are the worst 'cos it's always so stressful. Honestly, this is the LAST TIME we're ever doing this again. Then again, I kinda like it when I get to spend time with my friends and family WITHOUT they're significant others'.

I Was Gonna Do It-

But then I decided against it.

I been formulatin' a post in my head for a few days now, but something or other always gets in the way of postin' it.

I should probably say this: at work, which is where i spend all of my time nowadays (when I'm not cooking, sleeping, or unwinding from work), it's really busy, an' I hardly have time to scratch my ass, let alone put together more than three sentences and call them a post.

I'm seeking balance. I'm trying to find a way to make this work, but I just keep coming up empty.

For the first time in my life, I'm not half-assing it all the time. But it's exhausting just keeping up with myself.

I know, I know, where's my violin? Would I like some cheese (to go with that wine)? What's that sound? Is that the Waaaaaaaaaaa-mbulance I hear? People have it harder, I know.

Like my clients, who were homeless and now they're not. They have apartments the city is subsidising and we're giving them used furniture from dead people's homes.

I hate the donors because they don't give a shit about who they're "trying to help."

But at the end of the day, I'm fighting with our trucking company or telling people in need that we can't help them because we can't afford to.

By the way, everyone who comes to us, donors, businesses, and clients alike, are people in need:
"I need this stuff outta here this weekend; is there anything you can do?"
"I've been burned out of my house and need furniture- can you help me?"
"What?" I ask. "You signed your lease during the month of October? Sorry, DHS wasn't giving out referrals that month- we can't help you."

I sure have been saying "no" a lot lately. Sometimes, it seems like the only ones we bend over backward for are the donors.

Kinda shitty to be a formerly homeless person, says the anonymous poster, my girlfriend.

I guess.

But, I hear you saying, it's better than being homeless.

Yes, I'll have some cheese. And thank you for asking.

Oops. Looks like I did it.