I wrote so much while doing this, that if there was a maximum blog length allowed in WordPress, I would clearly be exceeding it. After I post my journals, which will probably take several days, I’ll open up some discussion on what I’ve learned. Not only by my own experience with this (which is nothing remotely close to what real homeless people deal with), but topics that my homeless friends have shared with me.
If you would like to know more about helping the homeless community, please take a look at Rethink Homelessness.
Quite possibly the longest day of my life…
A journal entry from day 1 of rethinking homelessness
I’m sitting at Starbucks in a neighborhood I know well. I didn’t want to go too far since I’m worried about my gas situation. I woke up at about 6:30 a.m., well for the last time this morning before actually getting up. What a horrible night! I didn’t sleep much at all. I’m thankful for the clouds this morning as I sit here to write. If I were really homeless, this writing time would more than likely be used for job searching time.
Wow, some guy just hit a truck right in front of Starbucks. Yes, he just drove off, without a second thought. Well, he did pause and look, so maybe that was his second thought. I wrote down his licence plate number. The guy that got hit came out right after and didn’t notice anything. Oh well, back to my sleeping situation from last night.
After frequently waking up all night, daylight arrived. I slowly peeked over my seat to assess my current surroundings. Was it safe to exit the car? The coast looks clear. The car beside me is gone. Had they noticed a person sleeping in the car next to them? I got out of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. I then noticed I had landed right next to the doggie poop park. Great. How many dog walkers saw me?
I need a restroom. Yes, I needed to go in the middle of the night, but that wasn’t going to happen. Staying hydrated means drinking lots of water. Drinking lots of water means you have you have to go to the restroom, although I’m surprised I didn’t sweat it all out.
In efforts to save money this morning, I decided to get my coffee at 7-11. One of my friends said they have free refills, and 7-11 has to be inexpensive, so this seems like a good idea. As it turns out, the coffee was only $.14 cheaper than Starbucks. As I paid, I asked, “These have free refills, right?” The clerk quickly spat out a, “No.” He gave me my change and looked past me to the next person in line. He might want to read the employee handbook again, specifically the section on customer service.
I left the store and took a sip of the coffee, careful to not burn my mouth. It was warm at best, and it might be the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever had. Note to self: no more 7-11 coffee. I went back to my car, and while sitting in it, I glanced down at the empty Starbucks cup on the floorboard. Yes! A bonus for not cleaning out the car after my Houston trip. I poured the foul 7-11 coffee into the Starbucks cup. That’s how I fit in here, sitting outside on the patio. (Just so you know, I don’t go to Starbucks much, but the advantage here is that it gives me a place to hang out when I have no where else to go. You can’t hang out at 7-11 and drink your coffee. That’s just weird.)
I’m still sitting here at Starbucks almost an hour later and I just ran into someone I know. That was bound to happen sooner or later, I guess it just happened to be sooner. Blend in, right? It’s my friend Dave. He said, “Hi,” and stopped to chat for a bit. “How are you doing?” and “What have you been up to lately?” Blend in. Fit in. I answered, “I’m good. I’ve been working a lot and staying really busy. Other than that, not too much going on.” I had to lie. No, I can’t tell him what I’m doing. Not only would that defeat the purpose, it would take a long time to explain and if I were really homeless, I wouldn’t mention that anyway. I wouldn’t want anyone to know, well, other than people really close to me. I guess that’s what I might do. Who really knows?
Dave is more of an acquaintance than a friend. This whole thing feels a little weird. All of a sudden I felt self-conscious about my appearance. I pulled my hair back this morning and cleaned up in the 7-11 restroom. With my old-people eyes, and the need for reading glasses, even I could easily see the hair on my legs. If it was any longer, I would be able to braid it. We then said our goodbyes and cordial “Don’t be a stranger,” comments. Back to writing.
I thought maybe Starbucks had free refills, but it’s only for the Gold Card customers. The girl at the counter asked if I knew how to get one of these precious cards. I said, “No,” knowing that it would somehow cost money I didn’t have. She proceeded to explain the process. “First, you need to buy a $5.00 gift card, then…” There it was. The first barrier to the special card. “…then go online to starbucks.com slash…” Barrier number two, no computer. She continued explaining this cumbersome process to achieve the gold, but I had already politely tuned her out, smiling and nodding to everything she said. Money and access are everything in our society. I paid the $.54 for my coffee refill, realizing I have just spent half of my money on coffee and I’m less than one day into this. I really don’t want to experience the lack-of-caffeine headache that’s inevitable if I don’t find my half-a-dollar each day.
How can you possibly manage your money when you have less than $5.00 of it? I can tell you this, it’s more difficult than managing a steady paycheck. When your survival depends on such a tiny amount, you really have to do some serious financial planning. You might think that homeless person is sitting there doing nothing, but they’re not. In most cases, they’re planning their next move. The next move that needs to happen quickly, that day, maybe in the next little while.
Budgeting a steady income is easy. You make one plan and apply it every month, knowing the next check will be there on the same planned date. A jobless person, meaning they don’t necessarily have to be homeless, has to not only budget their tiny amount of money, but they also must figure out a way to get more of it. If they can’t think of a way, assistance of some sort is the next option to meet some of their basic needs.
I really feel like maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. I have this feeling of guilt, but different than guilt. I’m not sure I can explain it. I really don’t feel like this is accomplishing anything, nor will this give me anything to communicate to anyone right now.
I picked up a USA today newspaper sitting on the table. Some of the headlines are “Bibles are Becoming Bar Talk” and “Microsoft Prepares to Unveil Office 15.” These are in addition to the normal politics, sports, financial and people gossip sections you would see in here everyday. Everything in this paper is topics or advertisements that people with homes and money can relate to, but nothing much for the low-income or homeless people.
So now what? I have nowhere to go. I need gas money. I need food. I need some basic toiletries. If I can get some of these things, then I can begin my search for a minimum wage job. I mean, that is the goal according to the working people, right? Why don’t I just get a job, anything is better than nothing and it’s just that easy. People have been watching too many Nike commercials. “Just do it,” applies to many things, but it’s just not that simple to get a job when you’re in a really bad situation. I’ve been in this less than 24 hours, mind you, and even I can see where this is going to be extremely difficult.
A minimum wage job will get me some money, but not enough to get me immediately back into the sheltered world with a home. Right now, I’ll be at the mercy of a few churches or random people that may or may not help. What will I run into? It’s the middle of the month. I’ve been told by several of my homeless friends that most churches cut off the benevolence because they’ve met their monthly budget.
Starbucks is busy. I keep looking around at these people. Some look like they’re working, others relaxing, and all of them looking content. A large group of women just sat down next to me, taking up two tables. They look like they’re prepared to study something. Are these the curtain ladies? (It’s a long story, but this is my reference for wealthy, self-absorbed suburban women.) They don’t really look like the stay-at-home mom types. Nope, it’s a group of teachers that work for the local school district. It’s some sort of planning meeting that began with, “This is not an official ISD meeting…” I wondered if they even noticed me or if I look any different than anyone else in there nursing a coffee drink.
I’m hoping the coffee will diminish my appetite until much later. I feel the need to hurry. I should drink my coffee so I can leave. And go where? I’m so accustomed to having too much to do and always being in a hurry, that even now, I feel like I must hurry. Why? I have no idea where I’m going next. I guess I’ll stay here for a little longer. I don’t even know what time it is. I have the primo spot in the place though, sitting in a comfy, overstuffed armchair.
I keep thinking to myself, “Why, again, am I doing this?” My life is sadly defined by my productivity. My parents taught me a good work ethic, but maybe it was too good. I feel like I’m doing nothing. Again, not even close to 24 hours into this and I’m starting to feel depressed. I would really feel better if I could shave my legs. My hips and back are sore from sleeping like a contortionist in my car. I have metal rods in my back, and laying on any hard surface is like some sort of torture device. At one point last night, I was so concerned about being seen, that I raised the seats up and was balled up in the fetal position in my trunk.
I like that the coffee shop writes people’s names on their cups. It makes me want to go over to the table next to me and say, “Hi!” to Alison and Stef. Will they remember me? Of course not, we’ve never met. I’m the ghost of economic future. I represent the potential in all of us to be in financial ruin. I’m faking it for two weeks, but the reality is that poverty and homelessness could happen to any of us.
If this was a real situation, I wouldn’t have any family to go to. Well, not unless I want to move 1,000 miles away and live in a crazy-cold climate. How about my friends? I have some that would take me in without question, but who really knows what would happen if it was a chronic, long-term situation? Most of us would help through our own parameters and boundaries. “I’ll help you, but you have to look for a job, in the way I think you should look for one. Also, you shouldn’t be wasting your money. You should be spending it the way I see fit.” I’m saying all this because I’ve recently judged a friend of mine, who was in a really bad financial bind, because she had gotten a nice meal to go from a not-so-cheap restaurant. She had a soda too. Why didn’t she just drink water? Probably for the same reason I’m sitting here drinking coffee. Maybe she had a coupon for the food. I don’t know, and even if I did, who am I to judge? I’m not in her situation so I can’t completely understand it.
I’m going to save the rest of the this coffee for tomorrow. It’s strong and I won’t have to buy any. Now, where should I go?
Money and access are everything
While you go about your normal daily activities, could you do them without money? What would your day look like if you left home without your wallet? On top of that, you only had a little bit of gas in your car? If you have done this, or have thought about it, please share your thoughts.