On Being a Squatter

I'm going to have a moment.

I am grateful to be alive, but I'm seriously hitting my breaking point on being homeless, and it's only been two weeks.

I'm sick of rifling through my suitcase every morning and not finding what I'm looking for.

I should be thankful that I have my clothes still.

I'm sick of showing up to work all wrinkled.

I should be thankful I still have a job and my office wasn't destroyed.

I'm sick of living in other people's homes.

I should be thankful we have a place to stay.

I'm sick of eating so bad.

I should be thankful we have food to eat.

I'm sick of being tired and stressed out.

It could have been a lot worse. 


We were scheduled to move tomorrow. Furniture was being delivered, we are getting keys to the rental house. Now that's not happening. 2 more friggin days. What's 2 days? I was looking forward to taking some time off work and being productive and settling us in. Now it will be just 2 more days of not being able to do much because I don't know if I'll have to leave to go take care of something. Or if I'll have to take another afternoon off. I guess we could always just sleep on the floor.

Oh, and being woken up at 4 am due to the thunderstorm from hell and my phone going off about flood warnings doesn't help.  

I need a nap. And I need it to be next week.

On a positive note, we now have a temporary PO Box, in a trailer, down a dirt road, in Moore, so I don't have to drive to the airport to get our mail.

So feel free to send me a smile. Literally. Just a piece of paper with a smiley face on it. :)