Time to check out of the hotel where I am treated like a rockstar princess. (I love it here!) I made my final call to the Women's Crisis Line, trying to find space in ANY local battered women's shelter. I don't understand. How many women are out there, staying in a bad sitch because they have no where else to go? I told them, I'll go anywhere...Las Vegas, Arizona, Colorado, Conneticut (wow, how do you spell CT anyway?) Oh wait. No one's going to just hand it to you, Goldey. You have to stand on your own two feet. Or at least the good left one. I'll be staying w/ a family (identity withheld, duh) until the apartment is ready. A good lesson in patience for Goldey. I don't like to ask for help. It makes me feel weak. You know what is actually weak...having an injury that forces you to bed for days at a time. Today...in this moment...I'm homeless. I'm disabled. And in an odd sort of way...I'm free. I can do anything I want today. WOW.
