A Letter To The Scum Of The Earth

All we needed was THE ONE PAYCHECK people always talk about. The one that can make the difference between being homeless and having a place to call home. We had fallen off the cliff, and now we were trying to climb back up. We were ready to move mountains, and desperate enough to jump into the unknown -blindfolded. All we needed was one chance to make it all happen.

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Ash Crosses and Dream Houses

Mardi gras was over, Lent, the time of fasting and sacrifices before Easter had begun. Just like every year, my friend hauled me to a Catholic church on Ash Wednesday, and we left with an ash cross on our foreheads. Remember that you are dust, and to dust, you shall return. I didn’t need that reminder. We had just hit rock bottom, and I felt lower than dust or dirt.

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Karma and Champagne

It was the first time we openly shared the fact that we were broke -it felt odd. Part of me was relieved, the other part felt ashamed. Later that evening, we told him OUR STORY, not for pity or sympathy, but because we needed to confront reality. We had been so sheltered and comforted at my friend’s home, we had been so busy, it almost felt like we had been hiding from the harsh truth that we still were homeless (house-less), and had nothing but debt to our name.

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Frozen, Stepping up!

She sat outside in the cold on the kitchen steps, smoked a cigarette right under the new quit-smoking sign we had now taped to the entry door. Our health inspection had gone well. We only needed an exit sign on the side door, like it would be possible to overlook a double door in a building that’s only 26’ x 20’. Minor complaints, easy fixes, and we passed with flying colors.

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