the next move…

everything in my life became about the next move. there was no long term planning, no daydreams, no big IMG_0066picture. find a place to sleep, find a way to keep as much stuff as possible, find a place for my cat, survive, survive, survive. if you know me, you know that ‘things working out’ is something I take for granted. I would find a place to live when I needed to, even if every solution only lasted for a month or so; and I’d figure out the next move once I got the immediate one lined up. And it always did. Every month or two found me in a new place. The watchword was definitely not ‘sustainability,’ rather, the watchword was whatever the word is for ‘don’t live on the street’. And I never did.

In the introduction, I mentioned the temp job that I was working at when the flood happened. It really was not a good job, I was bored out of my skull 99% of the time; frustrated, frantic and rushed the other 1%, on the rare occasion when The Sociopath decided he needed something from me. The other thing about the job was that the people, while lovely as individuals, as a team they were just… off. Other than the CEO, it was all women, who were very clique-y and none of them tried very hard to be friendly to me. The Monday after the flood when I went to work about 3 hours late, and wound up crying while I was supposed to be covering the reception desk, I’d been there about a month and never dreamed that I would find my first solution there. I had no friends, and nobody really spoke to me about anything but work, besides the other temps that revolved through the reception area.

My landlords had helped me move into the main floor apartment of the house the night before. After some harrying negotiations, it was decided that I could stay there for one month, and that I could have one month rent-free. The problem was that I was still one month behind, so I ended up having to pay them my rent on July first. That apartment was unbelievable; gorgeous, spacious, light-filled, attached to a front porch. I would have loved to stay there but of course the rent was way too high. So my first problem was that I had a month to find a place to live, but did not have enough money to pay first and last month’s rent. I decided that I should try to find a house-sitting job that would last a month or so, and ‘hopefully I’ll have enough saved up so I can get a new apartment after that.’ As I said, I only ever had the energy to work on the next move, and it was all grounded in ‘hopefully after that…’

And this is how I found myself in the lunchroom with a few people, including a Director and her daughter (who did some part-time work around the office). I thought, you know it can’t hurt to mention… so I piped up “if you hear of anyone who needs a house or cat sitter for the month of August, I’m in the market.” They looked at each other, then looked at me as though I’d offered them great riches. What synchronicity! The family of four would be away at respective music camps, retreats and cottages for most of the month and needed someone to look after their cats and other general housesitting duties. And that is how I came to stay in Mississauga with the Coopers’ last August.

Stay tuned for more on the month in Mississauga, and the next move…


2 thoughts on “the next move…

  1. Pingback: stream of consciousness (start with the stuff, see where it leads) | dreaming is one thing we don't do enough of

  2. Pingback: after the flood | dreaming is one thing we don't do enough of

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