Homeless is a series of diaries I have been writing since August 20, 2015, several weeks after I became homeless. PADS is the organization that is in charge of the homeless shelters where I stay nearly every night, and provides assistance signing up for available services, job searches, etc.
Homeless 50 is a compilation of information that might make understanding various acronyms and recognize some of the people a little better. You are welcome to start with Homeless Now and work through the other diaries, but starting with Homeless 50 may give you a jump start.
I am raising the white flag. Yesterday I wrote Homeless 65 (currently in Community Spotlight) and described returning to my van and not being able to start it up.
That was freaking scary.
It’s fixed, and my wonderful sister got a new battery for me, so things are good – but at some point, one of my rear tires is going to blow, unless I replace them first. Or, a cop is going to pull me over and ticket me for the crack that runs about ½ way across my windshield. (Which my sister insists is growing – but that’s only in her mind.)
So, I’m asking for help, friends. I wanted to wait until after I got a full time job, but I’m growing too worried. I need something more than a couple of weeks’ gas money in the bank to help me feel secure.
If I have enough money, my plan will be to 1) replace the tires, 2) replace the windshield, 3) purchase 2 pairs of slacks and 3 to 5 blouses (and underwear, please) that would be appropriate for interviews or a new job. (Hopefully I can get a couple of pairs of shoes at one of the sites or at the PADS center.)
The front tires cost $440 to replace them 6 months ago; Safelight (? The glass company) quotes $400 to replace the windshield. Even at the store for plus sized women (the only place I can find with clothes that fit), I should be able to get the clothes I want for about $200… but I am going to look for lower-priced options for each of those needs (Farm & Fleet for tires, possibly using a junk yard windshield to replace the current one, cross my fingers on finding some clothes in a resale shop that actually fit.)
Anything left after I purchase those things will go into my bank account. That will mean I will have money on hand for un-anticipated emergencies, and for evenings when my PADS card does not get pulled, and I need to sleep elsewhere. OR… it will sit in my bank account until I have a full time job, have stockpiled some money, and worked with PADS to arrange to get my first month & deposit paid at an apartment – to speed the process of getting and furnishing a place in any way I can.
What I do not plan to do is leave PADS and stay in a motel until I run out of money again. Dealing with that once was enough.
If you wish to help and can afford it (please – don’t send anything that is going to put you in dire straits – just think of it as half a set of tires/windshield, I can get along without them), there are currently two “cash” options: You could send money via PayPal to sheddhead@sbcglobal.net, or you could mail a check to Barb Ruehl, 703 W Liberty, Wheaton, IL 60187. I could also use some gift cards – I don’t shop much, but the plus sized shop where I go is called Catherine’s: https://catherines.lanebryant.com/... Occasionally I go to Target, or “the store that must not be named” (sorry. I really need to save money.) Or, I could use gas cards – I tend to use Thornton’s and Speedway a lot, but around this area we have Shell, BP, Mobil and some Marathon and Citgo.
I really don’t need food – I’m trying again to get my Link/EBT card approved, and that plus PADS will provide WAY more than I need.
Thank you so much for considering this. And I totally plan to keep writing, and am slowly compiling what’s all ready written into what might become a book. Fingers crossed.
And now, for today’s diary. After I woke up and was getting things together, I heard Will’s voice (Will is in charge of shelter sites, and not a morning voice). He was calling for clients to help gather pads, linen, pillows, put away chairs and tables. Why?
There were absolutely no volunteers. (Which also means: no breakfast.)
The volunteers are special, special people. They do a lot of work, and they are kind and friendly and pleasant at times when it seems like no one else is any of those things. Yes, there are the uptight ones who clutch their purses to their body, or who walk around us, gloved hands upraised, like they are surgeons – but those are the exceptions (and hey… they are there, trying to be helpful.)
There is a new-ish PADS client… She showed up a couple of weeks ago at the synagogue and slept in a cocoon sleeping bag that she pulled out of a huge black plastic bag – then disappeared for a couple of weeks. She says very little that is pleasant – she’s constantly challenging and belittling. Her name can be used in a poem to rhyme with Queen, so I’m going to call her that.
Queen returned to the PADS system about a week ago. She mentioned that immediately after staying in the synagogue, she’d gotten sick like me, with bronchitis. Given that I’d never seen her before and had completed my antibiotics before she arrived, plus that she got sick right after meeting me, I disavow having anything to do with her illness.
None of my germs would want to live in an uptight witch like that one.
Now, the pads clients are made up of all different kinds of people. In the women’s area, there are women who sit and stare off into space and never (or rarely) speak a word. There are women who threaten and bully. There are women who are friendly and polite, and others who are passive aggressive. There are some that never shut up, asking questions and telling stories about other clients even while you’re trying to read the copy of The Fog Divers that you borrowed from the library.
All kinds.
But most of us (both men and women, in my experience) are united in one thing – admiration for the volunteers. So, when a volunteer at the Methodist church in West Chicago announced that he was going to move a trolley of dishes and a client failed to move, and had her foot touched – not run over – touched by the trolley and then verbally assaulted the man, she was reproached by several clients.
This was the Bird Lady – the passive aggressive “Martyr of the Squeaking Chair” from previous diaries. She was so devastated by this reproach that she took some time to herself at a local motel, rather than continue to deal with heathens who support the volunteers.
But her faux pas was nothing compared to Queen’s.
We were at the Synagogue last Sunday night, and Bunny showed up. Bunny is THE volunteer – she’s special, among special people. I’m going to guess that she’s in her mid-to-late sixties, though she might be 10 years on either side of that range. She travels to different shelter sites and walks through with her Trader Joe’s Bag, offering us Halls Vitamin C candies, foot powder, Kleenex and other little things. If you have an important request, she’ll try to fill it for you on a subsequent visit.
And she tells raunchy jokes.
She is AWESOME.
One of her frequent give-aways is dryer sheets to put in your bag, to make things smell fresh(er.) Like them or not, they work.
Bunny was offering the women who were at their pads the Halls candies and butterscotch (which even got Margaret, recovering from surgery to remove melanomas from her cheek to sit up and say, “I heard Butterscotch?”), and then pulled out the dryer sheets. She was explaining them to a couple of the new-to-PADS women about their use when Queen rounded the corner.
Instead of saying, “Oh dear, I have asthma and am recovering from bronchitis, could you please put those away” she ranted, “I was told those things aren’t allowed in here!” and she flounced off.
Immediately 3 or 4 people asked Bunny for dryer sheets.
Bunny flushed, looking very upset and concerned – she’s been giving out all of these wonderful things, including the dryer sheets for many years – “I feel like she’s going to tell teacher…” she said mournfully.
Queen returned and THEN mentioned her asthma – without apology to Bunny or any of the rest of us. She continued and continues to receive the cold shoulder. I don’t ignore her if she speaks to me directly, but I stay away from her.
She perpetually takes (or tries to take, until stopped) pads reserved for late arrivals or those with medical guarantees. A male acquaintance asked Candy whether she’d ‘be nice to her, try to be her friend,” because he’d given her his number and she’d texted him 120 times in less than 2 hours. “She needs someone,” he said.
To quote Roald Dahl, “She needs a kick in the pants.”
She’d have a lot more chance of finding a few friends if she’d sincerely apologized to Bunny.
But she did buy one friend, by providing The Bird Lady with a ride to her next stop. They will be a pair with which to contend… the Martyr and the Queen. It’s like it flows, right?
And that’s the news from the grateful-for-friends homeless in the Woodridge Library.
© 2015 sheddhead – not to be used without written consent of the author, unless quoting portions of this diary on DailyKos, with links back to the original quotation
11:29 AM PT: 1:30 PM Central - 11/5/2015: This diary has been posted for about 2 hours, and amazing Kossacks have all ready sent $880 to my PayPal account, an email telling me to watch for an e-gift certificate to a big woman's online store, and 4 others have told me to "watch the mail." Thank you so much. I plan to play like George Halas and throw around those nickels like they are manhole covers. :)