I didn't get the apartment. :(
I guess it's about time to give up. I want to die. I haven't slept in ages. I wanted to hang on and try to find housing in that county a bit longer, but I'm just making myself miserable by staying in this shelter longer. I dropped over thirty dollars on ear defenders, the exact same kind I had before (but about twelve dollars more expensive). They're uncomfortable to sleep in, and I can still hear my bunkmate snoring. But she's getting a bit of her own medicine now because my mattress springs make a bizarre dinging sound when I toss and turn (due to being kept awake by her snoring).
One of the other clients is probably a lesbian. She introduced herself to me, but I've no idea what her name is because poor auditory memory. I think she tried the eye contact thing with me this morning. I don't know what is going on.
I tried to follow the shelter rules and not keep food in the dorm. I set it on the little counter we have for food. It was gone when I got back. That was at least two days worth of breakfasts, including several days worth of pumpkin pie spice, which is like twenty-four dollars per pound. I don't know whether I'm angrier with this disorganized mess of a shelter or myself. I suspected that this would happen. This is the second time this has happened, in fact.
I don't really get enough food stamps to feed myself every day.
Someone exploded in the bathroom or something. There was faeces and blood all over the walls of two of our three bathroom stalls.
It's gotten cold so I went to Goodwill to get some warm clothes. I only had one pair of pants. The barber shop is right there so I went in. My barber wasn't there, so some guy cut my hair. He didn't cut it the way I wanted it cut. Too tired to get really upset about it.
I came here to give blood today. While I was waiting to be called in, one of the workers tried to convince me to donate bone marrow. I said that I didn't want anyone cutting into my bones. He said that being a bone marrow donor requires a commitment because you have to go in and give the marrow when they call you.
I'd never really thought much about it before, but I thought they just extracted the marrow whenever you came in, then kept it on ice or whatever like they do with blood. But they just get your biological info and then call when they've found a match, so one never knows when the procedure is coming. A procedure that takes 5-7 days to recover from. And would probably leave a terrible scar on me. My legs are all scarred up and scabbed up from walking through prickly bushes when I was in Oregon.
They wouldn't draw my blood because I said that I won't be at my current address for at least 8 weeks. Ehh. Well, I got a free T-shirt.
I tried to keep a journal while I was in Oregon, but I gave up after a few days. For the first day, I wrote:
Caretaker was waiting for me at bus stop. Road had no bike lane or
shoulder. Tried Stand2Pee and remembered to hold legs straight
mid-stream. Peed all over my legs and strained so hard to keep a
straight stream that I literally shat myself! Took an outdoor shower
even though the water was cold and it was evening. Finally had
delicious rice noodles, nutritional yeast, and tamari! Was warm at 9
PM, but later at night was colder—too cold for my sleeping bag. Too
lazy to get up for liner. Was awake all night but got some sleep
next morning. Pitched tent on a slight incline and didn't even care.
I like that rough camping.
While I was in Oregon, I observed the caretaker have some epically long conversations, conversations that I knew I wasn't capable of withstanding. I thought about how fundamental is talking (including casual chatter) to normie socializing. And I thought about having no idea how to socially integrate myself in a way that is accommodating to my auditory issues. Then I had the idea to try to socialize with deaf people. Now I think that is maybe not a very good idea. Maybe if I found some other people with auditory processing disorders...I may as well take advantage of the big city social scene while I'm here.
I went to the Afghan market today. I got this humongous fresh Afghan bread for just two dollars, and a can of tahini hummus for 99 cents. The hummus was too sour for my taste. The low-gluten component of my diet has fallen by the wayside.
I like the little markets because they skirt the food stamp rules (and having surprising, cheap, and delicious vegan finds sometimes. and atmosphere). A couple of days ago, I wasn't able to buy a little $1.50 container of hot brown rice to go with my can of lentils because of the stupid food stamp rule that prohibits hot food purchases. Why *hot* food?? We can buy ready-made food that is chilled or at room temp, but not hot??