Day 6

My mind was racing. I had a million things to fix and they all needed to be done immediately. I was in panic mode, more so than I had ever been before. More so then when I found out I was pregnant, more so than when Gingham and I divorced, more so then when I woke up paralyzed, more so then when my daughters near fatal accident. I had never had so many balls to juggle at one time, there was no time to think. There was only time to act. I called my girlfriend whose husband owned a moving company. Unfortunately they were on vacation and there wasn’t much they could do for me. They did however supply me with enough boxes and tape to get my things in order. I had little time to figure anything out and as I began to organize my thoughts it hit me; I was about to be homeless if he didn’t come to his senses and allow me the time to formulate a rational plan. First off I needed to get my daughter to physical therapy, then I would consider going to get the boxes, but I wasn’t going to move a thing until I knew I was leaving. I mean, I knew I was leaving, but I wasn’t leaving that day, so lets not jump the gun. I would start applying everywhere for a job and the girls and I would stay on the lower level and I would figure everything out. I always did and they depended on me for that. While at pt that day I received another text from Jolly guy who was proving to be the least jolliest person I had even known. It read “You need to be out today” I picked up my phone and called him. Again trying to reason that he could not just throw me and my children out on the street. That he would need to allow me the time to figure some things out. “How much time are we talking?” He asked. “Six weeks tops.” I said “Impossible, you can’t be here that long. Get your shit and get out or I’ll start calling the cops” was his reply. The cops? Are you serious? What the heck were you going to tell them. That I moved in, all the bills in my name come to this address, that my license says I live here along with my bank account? Was it possible for him to just throw me out? Actually I didn’t know if he could legally do that, but I was banking on the fact that he always bent the rules in his favor so I wouldn’t put it past him to have some crooked cop appear at the door and try to have me removed. I knew I should call the best friend who was a cop, but I was trying not to get anyone involved. It was past ridiculous, this is really happening. I’m about to be put out on the street in a cardboard box down by the river. Thankfully there was no river near by. I called my parents. Oh my poor mother. They too were livid, they said I could stay with them a few nights a week, but it was too much for us to live with them full-time. Plus my animals would not be able to come being they had a dog that was old and neurotic and it wouldn’t work. They apologized profusely, but I get it. I’m a grown woman with two difficult teenage daughters one of which needs 100% care and I have five animals and it wasn’t the ideal scenario. So if I couldn’t go there, where the hell was I going to go. My mind raced faster and my heartbeat was elevated and I think it had now been over a week since I had anything more than my ecig and coffee. I was on overload. My girls just stared at me that day. Then they asked the dreaded question I knew was coming “What are we going to do now mom?” A question I’m sure they had been thinking for months, a question they asked me before we ever moved in. “What happens if it doesn’t work out? Where will we go then?” I never imagined A) It wouldn’t work out and 2) That we would be leaving so abruptly and he wouldn’t give me time to find a suitable place to lay our heads. This was my new nightmare, except this was actually my life.

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