There is a lot to unpack this morning and I have to put it all in one post because I’m going to be gone most of the day. First, the good news, G was NOT one of those on the IndyGo bus that caught fire yesterday morning. He was in transit on his way to school at this time, but the bus involved was on a different route. I think what is most disturbing is that this fire was set intentionally. Who the fuck sets fire to a bus? The suspect is behind bars, but I’m willing to bet that there is some form of mental illness involved because Indy doesn’t know what the fuck to do with its mentally ill citizens.
I’m up early this morning, having woken at 3:30 stressing over this whole housing issue. G picked me up a bus pass for today so that I can go look at a couple of places, but they are both right at $600 a month which is $200 a month more than I should be spending. Neither of them looks like much from the outside. Here’s a picture of the first one I’m looking at. It’s a multi-unit dwelling and I’m looking at a one-bedroom apartment on the ground floor:
The crumbling front porch is just the first of my concerns. There are no signs that the facility has air conditioning. Perhaps when this house was built, 60 or so years ago, AC wasn’t that big of an issue for homes this far North. Summers were moderate and tolerable. However, that is no longer the case as 100+ degree days are not unheard of and multiple days over 95 have become common. Normally, this would not be even a remote consideration. Its location is but a block south of where yesterday’s bus fire occurred. This is a high-crime neighborhood where one can be sitting in their home minding their own business and still become a victim. Sure, there are some fast food places within walking distance, but one would need to risk getting outside and walking to them without getting mugged.
And this is one of the better choices I’ve found.
One of this morning’s headlines is “Many older adults think they will never retire and worry about making ends meet, study finds.” 1 in 4 older Americans are worried they’ll have to work their entire lives. That’s assuming that they’ll be healthy enough to work. If you’re like me and not healthy enough to work, then you’re just screwed. Go ahead and throw us out with the trash. The GOP has gutted Social Security and other safety net programs to the point that none of them are sufficient for one to live even the most meager of lives, and if you believe the Democrats who say they feel differently, you’re a fool. They don’t. At least, their actions don’t prove it. Homelessness is a nation-wide problem. Rents are completely out of control, and if you can find a place that works with your budget, chances are high that, like the facility above, it’s dilapidated and run-down. We’re being told that we’re not worth saving, not worth helping, and not worth any consideration. You damn sure don’t want us on your streets, in your stores, eating at your restaurants; the prices tell us that much. We’re shut out of healthcare, and forced to rely on municipal transportation that is uncomfortable, unpredictable, and especially inconvenient in bad weather. Sure, we raised you, taught you, took your pictures for free, but now, no one wants us. No one can afford to have us around.
Four years ago, when I was first diagnosed with CLL, I was told that it was a cancer that one dies with, not from. Now, here I am, one of the exceptions, taking chemo medication that costs $20,000 a month, unable to stay upright more than three or four hours at a time, frequently incoherent and confused, and less than stable on my feet. Today, I get to test all these conditions as I get on a bus to go look at a rental I really don’t want in a neighborhood I absolutely don’t trust, just to try and stay alive. One of the things that causes CLL to flare up is stress. “Avoid stress,” I’m told. How the fuck am I supposed to do that when I have to find a new place to live before construction starts around here? Kat says she wants me to be somewhere safe, but I can’t afford safe! At a minimum, safe is going to cost in excess of $1500, and that’s without utilities, food, and other bills paid.
I worry about who’s going to take my place here. Who’s going to make sure the kids do their chores? Who’s going to shut the gate and take the dogs out long enough for them to actually get some exercise? Who’s going to monitor how much food the cats are getting so they don’t overstuff themselves? Who’s going to spend the $600 a month I spend on groceries and pet food? I can’t take the dogs with me because they need a fenced yard and no one has a fenced yard.
And this is why I was awake at 3:00 this morning. How is this going to work? The kids will be up soon. I can’t take a shower until after they leave, I have to be on the bus at 8:37, and I’ll be gone until late in the afternoon. What happens when my body says it doesn’t want to move anymore? What happens if I fall and don’t know where I am? What if I forget to get off the bus? I need help but there’s no help available. Those who care don’t have the time. Those with the time don’t care. I have to get this done today because there’s too high of a chance of rain to risk scheduling anything until next Tuesday.
I don’t know what else to do but drink plenty of coffee, take my meds, and silently scream into the void that is my brain.
![The Travesty of Morning [2010]](https://i0.wp.com/www.charlesiletbetter.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/AprilMorning_02-scaled.jpg?resize=1707%2C2560&ssl=1)
Morning Update: 04/20/24
If you’re not celebrating today, or at least thinking about celebrating if you’re not physically able, then can you really be my friend? Of course, I can’t partake, either. Not only is it not legal in Indiana [insert stifled guffaw here] it can interfere with my meds. There are some edibles that I can tolerate, but since Kat’s not here for the weekend I’ll have to make do with coffee. 😪 We have to give up some of the best things because of cancer. I’m not liking that part at all. I guess if I wanted to give up something this would be the time to do it. But I’m too old goddammit. Now’s the time to be indulging in all the pleasures we’ve put off earlier in our lives. No one over 60 should have to say no to any form of pleasure. If it kills us, at least we went out doing something fun instead of lying in a hospital strapped to tubes.
I tried to get a lot done yesterday, but it didn’t happen at the rate I wanted. Part of that was because I couldn’t get the pictures to do what I wanted. There are times when even the best technology available isn’t sufficient to read my mind and deliver the image my brain is seeing. After a couple of hours of arguing with Adobe over what is and isn’t a violation of the terms of service, I just gave up. So help me, their censors are apparently offended by people having a chest at all.
Just in case you missed them, though, we posted the following articles yesterday:
I mean, we try to be entertaining even when we’re feeling like whatever that was the cat just threw up on the floor. We want to give you something to do besides playing with that tear in your underwear; you’re only going to make it worse.
We investigated more apartments yesterday but came up empty. Too many listings don’t tell you if all utilities are paid. I’m assuming if they don’t mention it, they’re not. There are also far too many listings for studio apartments that are two or three times what I make in a month! WHAT THE LIVING FUCK! That doesn’t make sense for any apartment, I don’t care where it’s located or what amenities are included. And at that price, someone had better be bringing me breakfast each morning. Ya’ll are kinda stupid if you’re paying that much. Seriously! What a fucking waste of income!
One of the issues that I can’t seem to get past is the fact that once I take the chemo meds, I have a little less than two hours before I’m dead asleep. This does not make me happy. I have to take the meds with breakfast. I can only put off breakfast for so long before my body starts to complain. The hungrier I am when I eat, the shorter period I have after taking the meds before I’m completely knocked out. This drives me nuts because midmorning is one of the best times of day to get things done and where am I? In bed, surrounded by these two dogs, as sound asleep as if it were the middle of the night. Trying to juggle the timing so that I can get things done is unnerving.
Oh, here’s the ridiculously stupid headline of the day: Woman Who Didn’t Get Raptured Demands a Refund on Her Generous Tips. There’s stupid, and then there’s “Oh my god, do you even have a brain.” This certainly falls into the latter category. I can’t imagine ever going back and asking a server to return all or a portion of a tip you’d left. Just how fucking brain-dead does a person have to be to do something like that?
If I had limitless income, which I don’t, I would buy every woman on the planet a copy of Wonder Woman #8, the issue where Wonder Woman is under the influence of a religious (Christian) nut job. It’s only 30 pages, extremely well illustrated, and easy to read. My hope would be that women with religious assholes for husbands would find themselves in this story and find their own path to escaping the mind games men and churches use to keep them bound in marital slavery where they’re not respected or valued as anything more than property. If you know someone who is in this trap, maybe buy them a copy and slip it to them in between the pages of the Bible they’re forced to read. Consider it a mission of mercy.
Okay. I really need to eat now. Ugh. Check back with me after I wake up this afternoon.
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