“Residing” in an Industrial Area makes for interesting “living”. You feel warehoused, stored away. Confined without bars. You have to have your bag(s) pass through an x-ray search, no outside food, or open bottles, no sharp “stabby” things, and you must pass through a metal detector. Smoke? There’s “the yard” a fenced in area with no place to sit, except for the uneven blacktop.
After the dorms are locked, you can retreat to the “recreation” room, where you can sit, watch a movie, and generally be demotivated to change your existence. The computers are in dire need of updating the OS and browser, and, you have to ask permission to use them, as you are not allowed to know the password. Job skills/prep isn’t happening there, baby. To be fair, it is the Assessment Shelter, but still.
Did my health/psych screen a couple of days ago, and the PPD (TB) test came back negative. NOW I can be sent on to Transitional Housing. The question going through my head is the one of where I will end up. Shelter? or Transitional Housing?
Monday morning I go see the people regarding housing. Saw pics of the building and apartment I hope to be sharing. Nice.
Got the directions to the apartment building where the interview will take place tomorrow, excited.
Last night, last fucking night, I walked into the restroom, and some nasty excuse for a human left her bloody panties and napkin on the bathroom floor. WHAT. THE. FUCK? ran into a “Sink-bather” this a.m. Ladies, there are showers. With curtains.
How do I feel after starting the mood stabilizers? GREAT!!!! Energized.
Breakfast consisted of three hard boiled eggs, fried turkey baloney, y una hot dog bun. Since every maintenance person in this place is here, it must be “feeding time at the zoo”. “Breakfast” is a mashed egg/baloney sandwich. ugh.
Interviewed at 1070, and will know in a couple of weeks. Saw the room. SWEET! PLUS, I will be able to cook again!!!!
As non-stimulating as it is, I’m heading back before it starts raining.