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June 5, 2013

Last Friday, I went to HRA to get my storage paid, but because I finally succeeded in getting my public assistance cash benefit taken away, they were telling me I had to get a one-shot deal. The one-shot deal is such a perversion. When I got the one-shot deal to pay my backed rent during my eviction, it was only revealed to me at the last minute and under duress that I would have to pay it back, but I signed it anyway. The one-shot deal essentially means, “We are more than willing to pay $117 a day to a shelter where you will get sick and be treated like garbage, but we are not willing to pay the $34 a day to keep you in your own apartment unless you have a paying job and are willing to pay it back.” Whoever came up with this policy is a horrible pervert who needs to be exposed, fired, and punished. The only possible explanation for such a policy is unadmittable cronyism.

The BEV inspector was a crusty, middle-aged black lady who kept cutting me off in mid-sentence. The idea of a one-shot deal to pay $280 that I would have to pay back was absurd, and not worth the effort, but I showed up because it was a matter of compliance (at the appointment where I was told to come back for the BEV, I saw the man from Guangzhou, but he didn’t see me, and I haven’t seen him at a soup kitchen again). When she finally realized that the “resources” of my savings account were the savings plan the shelter put me on so that I could pay the initial moving expenses after I find employment, she went and spoke to her supervisor. She came back and told me exactly what I wanted to hear. I would technically be a full welfare case, so that the shelter could get what they want, and I get my storage, but I would not get the cash assistance, nor have to attend the program at FEGS. She then offered me a couple of lollipops and sent me on my way.

My mother told me this blog is an embarrassment to her. In fact, she says she feels embarrassed for me because I can’t recognize how all this is my fault. I feel sorry for her that she follows a knee-jerk ideology that establishes that everything that happens to a person is that person’s fault (although she can always rationalize why it doesn’t apply to her), as though I chose to be given vague instructions that my boss refused to clarify, and chose to be thrown under the bus as a result. so much of this is contrivance on her part. she sent me an e-mail telling me how Ivy Tech kept hiring creative types onto the faculty while she worked there, and she didn’t understand why I wasn’t finding work. SHE EXPLICITLY TOLD ME THAT SHE DID NOT WANT TO APPLY THERE BECAUSE SHE WAS AFRAID THAT I WOULD HUMILIATE HER, WHICH I WOULD HAVE, SINCE EVEN WHEN I GOT A STANDING OVATION FOR SINGING AT CHURCH SHE FOUND A REASON TO FEEL HUMILIATED. She told me to apply at IUPUI, but she refuses to acknowledge that this was a hidden market I was unable to tap because they have graduate programs and would be giving the students in those programs first priority. David tells me that I need to stop trying to change her, because providing information is automatically an attempt to change.

I’ve spent the past week focused on a job that I learned half an hour ago that I didn’t get, even though I had to have aced the proofreading test and the interview seemed to go well. Perhaps I self-sabotaged by not having any questions. Or perhaps the fact that I noted three errors in the “corrected” version of the document. One was “New Years Day” in the “corrected” document, and “New Year Day” in the uncorrected document, which I changed to “New Year’s Day,” which is correct. Another was joining two sentences with just a comma, and the other was also a punctuation error, although I don’t remember the details. Perhaps they thought such corrections would make me a “difficult” employee. As a result, my total jobs to which I’ve applied has gone up only to 1,707, a number my mother insists is a bragging figure and alleges I am not targeting, even though sometimes I’ll spend 3 hours on a cover letter and have it peer reviewed and still never hear anything from the company. I wish I knew the catalog aria from Don Giovanni better, since I now have a situation for it to take to class, even though the number of women in the aria is higher than the number of applications I’ve made since becoming homeless.

I’m still having people attack me on YouTube insisting that I need to do physical labor that would be unsustainable in my condition based on their mistaken notion, “you look fine,” even though they’re not doctors and aren’t offering me work where they would be held liable for the result of my back spasms. They expect some other employer to take the fall for that.

One of my friends got me some under-the-table data entry work, but one can’t live on what I was getting–it amounted to $6.25 per hour, so I didn’t even report it to the Department of Labor. I was working with him and it was laid back, though. That also impacted my ability to search for permanent work to get myself out of the shelter over the past couple of weeks. One time I accompanied him to a meeting by a group of evolutionists, which was followed by the Flying Spaghetti Monster atheists group. The discussion was really random, and the religious attacks were all on fundamentalists, so it didn’t bother me at all. Towards the end of the evening, I started to share my story with some of the members, who seemed fascinated and supportive–one (married) woman in particular. I probably came across as an atheist to some people in YouTube debates last week. In real life, I didn’t even get involved when this jerk at the soup kitchen at the Church of St. Francis of Xavier was harassing a young, rather pretty nun over her decision to become a nun, insisting that the Bible says that people should outnumber the stars in the sky. My guess is, had I brought up Paul’s declaration that it’s best not to marry if one can be celibate, because he would probably take it very literally and say that Paul was referring only to men because he uses that term in most translations. The way the guy was carrying on, I didn’t want to talk to him, and neither did the nun, who said a few words about interpretation and walked away rather than argue.

It’s tough when you’re in a situation like this and your church puts out an e-mail about how they need $405 from every member of the church. I realize they don’t expect to get that amount from each person, but when you’re struggling to get out of a homeless shelter, it really makes you feel less-than for not being able to support something that you care about.

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