10:56. I have a noon appointment with my therapist. I’d originally thought to stop downtown for coffee afterwards and then go to the mission. However, last night I got turned away, so I now think to go straight from my doctor’s office to the mission: I don’t know how long that walk takes. If I arrive at the mission at 13:45 and have to stand there idle for 45 minutes — after last night, that’s a price I’m willing to pay.
This morning I’d meant to go up to the doctor’s office early, arriving at 11:00, and then try to find someone in Case Management to help me get into transitional housing. I came to the library first, but it got to be 10:40, meaning I’d have less than an hour to work with the case manager; so I cancelled that plan for today. Later this week I’ll have opportunities.
The move into transitional housing, and the transition into that move itself, are likely to bring many changes.
All my beloved current routines may have to go out the window. As of this morning, I’m willing to do that. Depending on logistics, there may be changes to my church activity. I am likely to have far less Net access than before, which may spell far less activity on this blog, and possibly having to give up reading online news altogether. (That, however, may help me maintain peace of mind.) The Net access I will have, will need to be substantially devoted to job search. There will be whole days with no Net access at all, for the sake of pounding the pavements in job search. (That becomes feasible once I no longer have to carry my bags with me everywhere I go.) And once I do find a job, there will be less Net access because, obviously, I’ll be working.
Last night I stayed “around the corner.” Specifically, I slept in “Detox,” a room on the ground floor with thirty bunks. I’d never been there before. Offhand, it looked OK; I anticipated no bedbugs. One has very little headroom if one has a bottom bunk. The bathroom there is a bit nicer than the one upstairs, albeit it’s lit by a 40 watt bulb.
Once I lay down, it’s as if the bedbugs declared war. They were on my legs from my ankles to my knees; my forearms; my fingers, a lot; they crawled around my belt to get my torso. I recalled a conversation some weeks ago with a guy at McDonald’s, who said he’d rather sleep outdoors than “around the corner,” given the conditions there, especially the bugs.
And last night I saw what he meant, and was thinking, “Never again.”
When I got up this morning, I felt fine, and (Scratching my left wrist just now.) (And right knuckles.) felt likely to forget the whole thing. At this writing, however, the welts are beginning to develop. I’ll be in considerable discomfort tonight.