19 Days

I have 19 days left to live where I'm currently living.  That's it.  19 days and my life will be uprooted once more:  the 4th time in 8 months.

Up until November 2009, I lived in my own apartment (after having my own place for 8 years in NY) and enjoyed my freedom and independence living on my own, with my own car, a fully-furnished small townhouse home and my two adorable, amazing cats.  In June, 2008, my world came crashing down.  I finished a job that lasted 3 years because my contract was up, and due to reasons I'll talk about later, I was no longer able to work in the field of teaching.  No more teacher's salary, no more health benefits, and more struggles to pay my bills.  Two years of going through different jobs and struggling was pure hell but I managed to hold onto my apt. and my car.  Then a "friend" was moving out of her condo, into a home.  She wanted a "friend" to move into her condo to keep it safe with a tenant she knew and to earn money from rent.  Great.  It was a bit bigger than mine, though it was a half-basement apt. which I'd soon learn came to be a bit depressing.  So I packed up - not an easy chore - and moved into this condo, after 6 years of my own place,where I barely had troubles and was fairly happy.  Well because of the stupid economy, the pre-school I worked at had low enrollment and lay-offs.  After 6 months of living in this "friend's" condo, I was told I had to leave because she was getting tired of late rent - and when I lost my job, and the threat of no rent was looming - well, I can't say that I blame her - however, I do blame her for giving me only 10 days' notice.  Yes, you read that right - 10 freaking days!  Because of my inability to pay rent at this crucial time in my life, I was forced to become a live-in nanny.  So move number 2 was underway.  I move into a house with a single woman and her 3 boys from 3 different relationships.  The house was filthy, it was infested with ants and her kids were being raised without discipline or rules.  They slept where they wanted, went to bed whenever they wanted, and dinner was made around 9 at night, when their mother felt like getting off the internet.  I was miserable - so were my cats.  The bathroom was disgusting - it smelled putred and the floors were so sticky, it was nauseating.  Why did I move into this hellacious house?  When you have 10 days to find a place to live, you'll go anywhere.  Needless to say, I looked for something else immediately and found something - too good to be true as is being proven right now.

I find another family.  5 minutes from where I currently am.  It's a mother-daughter house and I would have my own little apartment within the house.  Perfect!  My cats would be welcome.  Even more perfect.  School-aged children and no diapers!  Excellent.  Nice, sweet kids (originally) and very nice parents.  Well, the mother was the parent, and she lives with her boyfriend - but nice people.  At my interview, we laughed and talked like old friends and I thought, OMG, how did I get so luck and fortunate to find them?  They even moved me in, without the expense of my having to rent a truck.  Nice people, I was so happy.  The move was made and in the beginning all was great.  It was room and board in exchange for working, plus a little bit of money each month - not a lot, but enough to tide me over till I could find something to make additional money.  I was told initially that they were italian, they'd never let me go hungry, they'd be there for me, they didn't want me to live like a stranger in their house, all these wonderful things.  This was June, 2010.  Two weeks into living here, I only ventured out while I was working.  I was ignored, otherwise and made to feel like an intrusion everytime I walked into the shared kitchen or to get the phone in the kitchen which was also shared.  The woman ran hot and cold on me.  Sometimes very sweet and even let me borrow her truck on occassion, as I moved here with my car, but very shortly afterwards, had to give it up for financial reasons.  Most of the time to this day, she ignores me, most especially on weekends.  She pays me so little and when I do get paid, it's spent on medications, pet food, food for me for a couple of days and there's not a lot left over.  She gets paid twice per month and I have to remind her to pay me, as she conveniently forgets.  I starve most of the time.  It's not a good, healthy situation at all.  Nothing is offered to me, I don't have money and I don't have a car.  I've eaten their food and I "think" I'm allowed because I think she just assumes I'll help myself - and I think it's ok, but I only do this when they're not home, because I'm hungry most of the time.  Just a crazy situation here. 

On Labor Day, she tells me that her grandparents lost their home and she needs to move them in.  She gave me 40 days to get out.  OMG!!!  Move number 4.  How much can I take????  I have 19 days left and I still don't have a firm place to go.  An interview today, one on Tuesday, both for families I don't really want to go to - and if I treat it temporary like I did the place before this one, that will make move number 5.  I want to go back to NY more than anything - but that takes money, a place to live and a job - none of which I have right now.  I pray to God I find the right family before my time is up here in less than 3 weeks.  I will be glad to leave here, in that the family doesn't treat me well - but I am also upset to leave, as the living conditions were ideal - apartment-wise - and my cats were welcome and comfortable here.  If you're wondering, I'm a huge animal lover and my cats are my children.  It is not an option to give them up or anything like that.  It would be like giving up human children and I can't bear that!

So I haven't even started packing yet, but I will probably next weekend.  I have nothing but time on my hands and I imagine two full days ought to do it.  Mind you, I'm not packing up a house, and though I have a lot of things, putting them in boxes and bags won't take all that long.  Plus everytime I move, I seem to get rid of more and more.  So much for the instinctual pack-rat in me. 

This is mind-blowing to me, considering I didn't grow up on the move.  I was born in Queens and moved to Long Island at 1 1/2 years of age.  I lived in that very house until I was 27.  My parents STILL live there.  When I moved out, I lived in the apartment I took for 8 years.  After moving to Richmond, I lived in my new apartment for over 6 years.  Now I'm moving for the 4th time in less than a year and it's pathetic. 

So do I have bad karma?  Am I going through something that was destined for me to experience?  Do I have any purpose in this life?  Will I teach again and live a normal life?  I guess it's obvious by now, I'm quite single and do not have kids so I'm in this alone.  My family knows what's going on - in a way - but there's so much they don't know because I spare them the majority of my problems.  I need guidance.  Help.  Someone to talk to.  This is all that I've told my friends that they're sick of hearing about.  Living arrangements, financial problems, lack of car, you name it, I'm going through it.  Surely I'm not alone.  Anyone out there experiencing anything like this?  19 more days....and I don't know where I'll be.