I need a button that says, "I went to Cal, and all I got was this lousy sweatshirt".

So, its been 2 weeks since we did the big move and I'm still trying to make things happen, primarily work and housing. Its been a total nightmare. The move was a nightmare in itself, and being homeless is an even bigger nightmare. For the art of moving is only technically a "transition" when it results in moving into another home... or moving into something else. It just ain't happenin'. I haven't found any jobs that are the right fit. Right fit meaning: pay, hours, location and of course something I can tolerate doing. It must be something I can at least tolerate because I'm too mentally unstable for bullshit, as if ya'll didn't already know that.

Not enough income leaves us without a place to call home. Grandma took us in, but I'm not comfortable there. She doesn't have enough physical space for us, I'm convinced that she doesn't really want to share the little space she does have, factor in about $70 in gas a week (if I planned on returning after taking Miss J to school), and her kids, again, I'm too mentally unstable to continue there for too much longer. I looked into a local housing program specific to single mothers, but fell $50 short of their income requirement, and the director of the program, while she said she may be able to make an exception, seemed to pass judgment, inquiring as to why it has taken me "so long to finish my academic program". I guess I wasn't aware that 2 extra years, with a child and no help qualified as "so long", but I guess. I refrained from inquiring about her elitist attitude and reminding her that asking stupid questions about my academic program was not a part of the application process. Its always interesting to encounter people when seeking any kind of social service or assistance. You are always viewed as a further drain on an already weakened economy, especially if you are seeking services as a black single mother. The fact that you may have given your blood, sweat and tears to a University, and will probably make a shit load more money than they do one day, never really comes into play... until they blatantly try to railroad you and you have to set them straight.

Needless to say, this is not an enjoyable experience. When I first entered this new state of being, I took a look back at my friend Sharyn's documented homeless experience, which helped me sorta prepare and not feel as shitty. Other things that help me feel like less of a failure are the comforts of knowing that I am not the only one with this particular experience (leaving school and entering a realm of a whole lotta nothin'), and the support of good friends.

To be continued...