It was late February & things were tough like really tough, I've never experienced the worries I was having & the anxiety in my body was really bad. I was homeless actual real life homeless and that shit was scary. No family, no friends, no support, I wouldn't wish that on anybody. I was so happy to have that bed in the shelter for the moment. I felt bad because hubby's struggle at this time was very different, maybe he'll tell you his story sometime. If you ask him tho he will say he didn't struggle at all. I don't see how having to sleep in storage & being out in the rain with no where to go wasn't a struggle but again it wasn't me.
As the weeks went on things became rather peaceful for me. I worked slept, read books, & went to work, it was mostly quiet there except when the ladies were in moods but I still got my rest. My schedule went like this I worked from 5pm until 6:30 am on most days. I would get in around 8:30am fall asleep by 10am & was right back up at 2pm to leave out at 3pm. I was focused & felt like in 60 days we would have the security deposit saved for the apartment. The ladies at the shelter were really nice and respected my hustle they even said I was an inspiration to them. They called me the lady with the scooter lol. It was now the beginning of March and they never brought the case managers and they said the shelter was closing on March 31st and it was our responsibility to find somewhere to go.
This was in the way for me I needed at least 30 more days! Then the unthinkable happened; since hubby's e-bike was stolen he was using the beach cruiser to get around. He called me the night of March 9th sounding like he was in excruciating pain saying he had just smashed his knee into a pole. He was riding his bike with no hands looking at his phone down a slope coming off the train & couldn't stop himself in time & banged out. He even kept riding until he got to storage. He changed his clothes & limped off to work not realizing how badly his knee had been damaged.
The next day on my way to work hubby & I had an argument about our current situation. I couldn't take it anymore & we had to create some type of plan. I felt like I wasn't being heard and left the train stop in a frustrated huff. As I was leaving I didn't notice that the front finder on my scooter was loose & I flipped into the air, flew over the scooter on Santa Monica Blvd. When I called Hubby I was laid out in the middle of the sidewalk & he was about a block away, he hobbled to me after I called him from the ground,(he said that was the most painful part of his whole ordeal) I told him what happened. Before he got to me I made it from the middle of the street to the sidewalk in order to lay down. I called out from work after analyzing my body & then called 911.(The job still talks about the fact that I called them before calling 911, it always brings a good laugh) I went to the hospital everything turned out ok. For hubby not so much he didn't get seen at the hospital because he is a self healer, but he did need to rest up his leg & was not going to be able to do that in the storage unit. Damn man we almost had the money saved what do we do now?
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