Yesterday I was supposed to meet my dad's friends Roy, Bernard and Clair at my mother's house for a pre-scheduled, uneventful extraction of more tools and model aircraft stuff. Roy had warned my mother I would be with them. It was agreed that Mom could expect us at 10:30AM. Of course, I was coming from far away and didn't arrive until about 12:30PM. As I was pulling off the highway into Newmarket, my cell phone rang. It was Roy.

"I thought you should know what's been going on. The front door was locked when we got to the house, so we waited around for an hour or so and then wandered into the back yard and waited there. Bernard leaned on the back door and it slid open, and your mother called to us from inside. We found her on the floor in the doorway of your father's workshop. She said she fell yesterday afternoon and has been there ever since. She asked us to call 911, and the ambulance is here now."

Great. I got to the house within a few minutes and parked on the road. I saw the medics carrying the stretcher up the side of the house, so I ducked into the garage and waited there until she was in the ambulance. She didn't see me as she passed the garage door, but I saw her. She was waving her arms and laughing, appearing just fine and being happy to be the centre of attention again. The ambulance left and I said I would go into the kitchen to remove the parts of my Nintendo game she hadn't returned to me when she tossed our stuff out on the driveway in June.

The entire main floor of the house was thick with the stench of human urine. The bathroom was littered with loads of dirty diapers overflowing out of the garbage can, onto the counter and the floor. The bathroom sink was encrusted with brown chunks, possibly vomit. Her bed had no sheets on it, and the garbage was piled up around it as usual. Gilly's bedroom was packed full of trash, as was the living room. The kitchen floor was barely visible and the sink was full of old cat food. The cats' water dish was near empty despite it being the fountain type that refills itself. Teffy had been pooping on the front hall carpet again, but instead of it being picked up it had dried out and been smashed into the carpet from being walked on. This was NOT a suitable place for human or animal habitation. I went to the Community Care Access Centre and spoke to an on-call worker, as Mom's worker was out on calls. She said she couldn't talk to me, and that Mom had listed Grampa (the man who beat the hell of of her) and Dave (the child molester) as her contacts. The worker said she couldn't talk to me, and I said all I wanted was for her to hear what I was saying, not to tell me anything. She insisted she couldn't take in any information from me, which is bullshit because the privacy laws only say they can't give out information. I got really angry with her, started crying and swearing and telling her to just do her fucking job and go look at the house to make sure my mother is safe. She said nobody from CCAC can enter the house without Mom's permission. She told me to speak to somebody at the hospital named Gail, and I stormed out of the office. I could have used a lorazepam, but the bottle was sitting in my medicine cabinet at home.

I went home and took a bunch of photos of the inside of the house. Once again the flash on my camera isn't working, so the pictures were dark but I hoped they would be clear enough to show the extent of the situation. I told Clair what happened and considered asking him to go to hospital with me as a witness to the living conditions, but I decided against it when he began telling me he had gone through this with his own mother, who died only a year ago. The situation clearly upset him, so I didn't think he'd even be willing to go with me. I went on my own.

At the hospital, nobody could figure out who Gail was, so they called in Liz, the same dippy discharge worker that patronised us when we had Mom in on the Form 2 in July. She remembered me and my sister. She obviously didn't remember my anger at her telling me I "have a lot on my plate", because she said it again and I got really angry at her again. "That's the biggest fucking understatement of the year! All that phrase means is 'it sucks to be you but it's not my problem.' Stop patronising me and do something useful!" She suggested I get some lunch in the cafeteria and have her paged when I returned to emergency so she could put me in the family room until a doctor, crisis worker, or someone else could see me.

I hadn't eaten so I had lunch, then spent two and a half hours sleeping in the family room while waiting to see the doctor. I also phoned the Humane Society while I waited to see if I could get an inspector to go in and take the cats away due to unsanitary conditions. The woman on the phone was very concerned and very sympathetic, but said they couldn't go into the house without my mother's permission unless they got a warrant, and even if they got in they wouldn't be able to take the cats unless they were in immediate distress. I can't just take the cats because under the law they're "property", never mind that they're living, breathing, feeling creatures. She suggested I try calling the police and getting them to give me the cats for temporary care.

The doctor finally came in, and I saw him for maybe two minutes. "I hear you've been having some problems with your mom the last couple of months," he said.

"More like the past twenty years. I've been caring for her since I was a kid and she never forgave me for growing up too quickly."

"Your mom sure is... different," he said, in a tone that indicated he wanted to say "batshit crazy". I told him that was a nice way to put it.

He asked me what I was doing in town, and I explained. I told him what the men had told me about finding her, and he asked me if I believed my mother that she had been on the floor all that time. I was rather surprised at this, and said I hadn't spoken to her or seen her personally, but seeing that she falls frequently and normally bums her way down the hall to get her legs down the stairs, it was entirely possible as she couldn't do that in the basement. He said she had been getting up and walking around the emergency with no trouble at all, which he found strange. He said he thought she should go into some sort of care home, and that he wanted to admit her on a Form 1. I thanked him and said that was what I wanted, and that I think she should be in assisted living. I offered to show him the pictures of the house, but he wasn't interested. He was already convinced of her insanity. He rushed off, and I left my cell number with Liz and told her to call me if they needed me for anything else, no matter how late. I got the doctor's name: Silverstein. I left the hospital about 5PM.

I went back to the house and worked with the men to take out a bunch more stuff. While we worked they told me that they had doubts about whether my mother had really been there all night. They said she appeared relaxed and comfortable, like she was just having a lie down on the floor. She didn't say "Oh that God" or anything of the sort, and didn't appear hurt. Although she was lying in the very dusty workshop, she wasn't thirsty or hungry. Shen asked for her pills and a small glass of water with which to swallow them. She directed them to call the ambulance and wouldn't let them do anything other than help her sit up. She was chipper, wide awake and alert.

Another huge part of her story was suspicious. She said a neighbour (indicating with a wave to Anne and Pat next door) had called 911 for her, but when the emergency services arrived they walked around outside the house. She claims she heard one of them saying that they wouldn't break in because it would cause $10 000 damage to the house, and then they left.

None of this adds up. Emergency services would not just leave after a 911 call without investigating. Any neighbour that would have called would have followed up to make sure she was cared for. None of the neighbours, Anne included, knew anything about my mother being on the floor or 911 being called. Anne also has a key to my mother's house and would have used it to get into the house. Nothing adds up at all.

Unfortunately I only found this out AFTER I had spoken to the doctor. I called the hospital at 7PM and asked to speak to Mom's nurse, but she was busy at the time. I was instructed to call back. I called at 8PM, just as we had all left the house and gone to Swiss Chalet for some supper, and I was told my mom had been discharged and had just left in a taxi! Of course, due to privacy laws, they can't tell me shit about why they let her go yet again. I can't tell you how angry and amazed I am that she got out again when the doctor was completely convinced that she was not safe to go home.

We had our dinner and then took the stuff from the house down to Austin's. I stayed with Austin for a little while to tell him what had happened, and he was also dumbfounded. We talked for a while, and then I headed back to Newmarket to stay with Ellen and Brian before they left town for the weekend.

I got in about midnight, and Ellen was still up. We talked for two hours, and I cried a lot. She kept telling me to just give up, stop trying to get care for my mom because it's not making any difference anyway. In a way she's right. At this point, if it was just my mom I might walk away but I'd still feel bad about it. What about our innocent cats, though? They don't deserve to live in a place like that. Ellen said I shouldn't worry since the cats are outside a lot of the time and if they really didn't want to be there they would just run away, but that still doesn't mean it's not affecting their health. They're both old cats (11 and 12), Zazu has a heart problem, and both cats keep having these coughing fits, which I recently found out are asthma attacks. They are sick from the filth in the house. Why should we have to wait until they're so sick they have to be put down before they can be removed from the house?

This morning I called the Humane Society again and updated them on the situation. They said they would send an officer to the house and ask permission to go inside, and they would try to convince her to give up the cats voluntarily. I said it was worth a shot, although there was essentially zero chance she would go along with it. At least there would be a record of the complaint. She was going to call me if they got the cats from her so I could bring them home with me, but the call never came so I guess we know what happened there, and Mom will have a whole new story to spread around about me being the worst person that ever walked the earth.

I also called the doctor's office this morning, and of course he was already booked up. The receptionist told me it wouldn't do any good anyway as legally he can't do anything about it, but I think the details of this incident should be in her file. I told her I would put it in writing and send him prints of the photos. I think I should send the same to the psychiatrist as well.

I'm back home now. I just don't know what to do with myself. I sometimes wish she would just kill herself now and stop everyone's misery, because she's only going to keep getting worse and more miserable anyway.

This link makes me very happy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rfqNXADl3kU

I just made an apple-rhubarb crumble and some custard to put on top. As I set the custard aside to cool, I commented to Gilly, "This is the first time I won't have to fight Dad for the custard skin." Things like this occur to me multiple times every day. It's still so hard to believe he's gone.

I keep having these bizarre dreams, none of them recurring, just a bunch of unrelated dreams that have clear relationships to things in my waking life. Last night I dreamt about inheriting a house from my mother's parents (who I never had a relationship with, and the house in my dream was not actually their house). In the dream I was putting up shelves all over the house, and the bathtubs were full of dirty water. In waking life, I have put up several shelves in the apartment to try and find places to put all our junk, and I keep thiking I really need to clean the bathroom. I also dreamt about having many things to mail, and I bought a bunch of stamps and put them INSIDE the envelopes and then filed them away instead of mailing them.

Last week I had a dream that my mother was pregnant, and I was desperately calling social service agencies to let them know she can't care for a baby. They didn't want to do anything. I have been told that a baby in a dream means a new beginning of some sort, and I figure this signified my worries about my mom's new independence. When I woke up I had to think about whether my mom was really pregnant. Fortunately it's impossible as she has no uterus.

While at Ellen's, I had a rather frightening dream where my mom was chasing me on foot up the street where I grew up. I was screaming "HELP! HELP! SHE'S DANGEROUS!" but nobody would do anything. She kept catching up to me and then I'd run away again, but she was never far behind me. I woke up in a bit of a panic. Also in that dream, my dad was alive and he was living in a house across the street. I think they were supposed to be divorced, but I'm not sure.

I normally don't remember my dreams, so this is really odd. Although I feel less stressed by being here, my brain is still processing a lot. Consciously I know this apartment is my new home, but I still feel like a visitor and wish I could go home to my own familiar room and have everything go back to normal. Realistically, nothing can ever be the same again. My father is gone forever and most of the things I loved went with him. Gilly's about all there is left.

I have not yet sent out an epilogue e-mail to the long list of friends I notified when my dad died. I had been keeping them updated with mass e-mails about all that's going on. I think the reason I don't want to write and tell them it's all over and settled is that I don't feel like it is. I want so badly to go back to my old life, and I'm just not ready to announce that I'm settled into my new life.

I will see the psychiatrist on Wednesday and hope to discuss these feelings with him during the appointment. While I'm back in town I hope to get together with a friend or two and reconnect with those I fear losing.

OK, something really fucking spooky is going on.

Roy, Dad's friend that is helping with the engines, e-mailed me tonight saying they have all the engines catalogued. He was asking if/when/how we can get more from the house. So we've been exchanging e-mails all night, and I said i shouldn't go back but I think he should call my mom and ask for access He just e-mailed me and said my mom just phoned him, out of the blue, to invite him over to take more stuff. I told Roy I'd better check behind my ears for a brain transmitter.

Today has been quite productive. It started last night, when I stumbled across a couple of really good community information web sites and I wrote down contact names for all sorts of groups. I stayed up until 4AM looking things up. I woke at 10AM today, and went out to a local park as I had seen a posting on Freecycle saying a bunch of people were going out there for lunch.I took a sandwich, sat at a picnic table in the designated area, and waited. I waited about 20 minutes, but never saw anybody. I had arrived late, too. So much for that! It was a nice day anyway, so I enjoyed my little walk in the park.

I headed home and started phoning some of the numbers I'd found last night. I called a club called the Divas, which are like a younger version of the Red hat Society, and they wear pink boas. I couldn't reach anyone. I spoke to someone from the Newcomers Club and got information on their September meeting. I phoned a counselling service and got an appointment in mid-September with a counsellor who has personal experience in losing a parent at a young age. I also signed up for an anxiety management course, which would normally cost over $100 but since I'm on EI they're not going to charge me for it or the individual therapy. The counsellor is the same guy that runs the group, so I'll only have to tell my story once and won't have to repeat myself to him in private. It runs one afternoon each week starting in a month.

I got information on a free yoga meditation course at the community centre on Wednesday nights, and looked up courses at a Bhuddist temple. I also phoned an antiques dealer I heard about at the library and arranged for an appraisal of Gran's octagonal Wedgewood bowl. I took a nap for a couple of hours, then went to the Humane Society and looked at the animals. I put in an application to volunteer for play therapy and dog walking. I was told they are at capacity for volunteers but they could call me as early as a couple of weeks from now asking for help. I figure such work will help me get my cat fix and also keep me busy and low on stress, and I can meet new people that way.

Next I went to the YMCA family fitness centre for some information. I took a quick look around the lobby and saw the pool area, and asked about a tour. I can go back with workout clothes sometime and get a free day pass and tour. A membership isn't cheap ($40 a month) but they do have subsidies for people in financial distress, so I will inquire about that when I go back for a tour.

All in all it's been a good day. Gilly and I watched Thank You For Smoking tonight and got a laugh out of it. I found it very interesting that they never once showed anyone smoking in that movie, although they said the main character was a smoker.

When I mentioned the Humane Society, Gilly started talking about the possibility of us getting a cat. I love the idea, but it still seems strange, as if we'd be cheating on Teffy and Zazu. I keep thinking about how old they are (11 and 12) and wondering if each time I see them it might be the last time.

I'm going to end this here, because it's been a positive post and thinking about the cats is making me a bit sad.

It's been a long time without an update! I have been so busy with the move, I've been spending every spare moment catching up on sleep rather than catching up with friends.

Gilly and I got into our new apartment on the evening of August 1, with the help of Gilly's friends Kim and Terry. We moved stuff from about 6PM to 10PM, with an hour break in the middle for pizza. Kim and Terry were remarkably good sports about moving, and I was glad they were there. The ongoing joke was the smell of the elevator, as at one point we were packed in like sardines with the two pots of chive plants on the floor somewhere and all we could smell was sweat and chives.

The night before a new girl from the singles' club, Afsheen, brought a carload of my stuff here and helped us move it into Gilly's apartment. as we weren't yet able to enter the new one. I was really surprised that someone I'd just met was so keen to help out. She didn't want to accept gas money, and protested a little when we bought her dinner. I'm constantly amazed at how kind people have been in the last few months.

The move wasn't completed until the Friday night, when we finally emptied out both our cars and finished emptying Gilly's old apartment. Gilly got a bit teary as she was leaving her place, and when I asked why she said it was because Dad helped her set it up. That set me off, and we cried for the next few minutes. We were still red-eyed when we saw the superintendent, and she asked if we were OK. We both said we would be, we just needed to get it out of our systems.

Shirley and Jeff, the supers here, have both been very good to us. Jeff and his cousin installed our air conditioner for us yesterday, and he wouldn't accept money for it. Instead he asked for Tim's coffee, so I ran out and got some for him and Shirley. Shirley called me an angel when I delivered them.

Gilly and I have been getting along remarkably well, goofing around and doing things together but staying out of each other's faces. Last weekend we went to Ancient Moot and had fun teaching Mitun how to live outdoors. This week I went back to Newmarket for a couple of days to see the psychiatrist for the first time and to pick up more of my stuff. On Wednesday night Rob and Chris helped me pick up the freezer from Mississauga, and I went out with them afterward and lost track of time. I tried to buy them dinner to thank them, but they ended up sticking $30 in my shirt after I paid the bill. You know I can't turn down money presented in that way!

I pulled into our parking lot shortly before midnight, and Gilly and I got my bed frame off the roof and brought in the coolers of frozen food. On Thursday Gilly came home at lunchtime and Jeff helped us get the freezer out of the van and into the elevator. I am pleased to report that the freezer is running beautifully and the food survived the trip. A few things thawed but I managed to eat them yesterday. Only a pair of crab cakes needed to be thrown out. I ate well yesterday, having scallops for lunch and liver for supper.

Two nights ago Gilly ordered the Movie Network, and we have already watched four movies from it. Last night we went out to a local indie theatre and saw Eagle vs. Shark, which I highly recommend seeing. It was funny in the Napoleon Dynamite sort of way, only I laughed more often in this movie. What was particularly funny was the male lead is a caricature of Gilly's ex-boyfriend. Gilly agreed the similarity was startling.

Today we had a really great day. We got up early and went to the farmer's market, where we bought loads of fresh veggies and fruit. We saw a lot of oddly purple vegetables, so we bought purple cauliflower and purple peppers, among many other things. We had freshly-made lemonade and watched a guy play a digeridoo. If I hadn't been carrying a heavy load of produce I would have attempted to dance to the odd sound. We left the market when we ran out of money.

When we got home Gilly discovered the strawberries and blackberries were a bit crushed. We discussed various things to do with them. I cut up a pile of veggies and we sampled our purple produce. We watched a movie on TV while Gilly did some work she'd brought home. After the movie we both took naps, and woke up when it was time to go to a fancy local restaurant for Summerlicious. We enjoyed a delicious prix fixe meal and some good wine (Lulu B French Chardonnay), after which we both got sleepy from the good food and drink. When we got home we watched another movie, and I threw the crushed berries in the blender with some frozen yogourt, orange juice and four kinds of liquor and made us some awesome purple smoothies. We both agreed it was an excellent day.

Wow, I've been typing and rambling for ages. I need to get some sleep!

I think things are about to get better for me (knock wood). This morning Gilly and I went to Mom's house with Dorian, and we got our stuff without police. We filled my van and Gilly's car completely, and then called my friend Ellen and filled her car too.

I was really shocked when Dorian went inside the house and spoke to my mom, then came out and handed me a cheque. Yesterday he told her she owed me $1700, and she said she wasn't going to pay it. For some reason she changed her mind and wrote me a cheque for $2500, in addition to a $600 cheque she mailed me last week. I don't know what made her decide to give me the extra money, but I'm glad she did. I won't believe it's true for a couple of weeks when I know the cheque hasn't bounced.

Mom also told Dorian she intends to sell the house at some point, and when she does she'll pay off Gilly's student loan of $20000. The other message we got from her was that if we want to return another day to pick up more stuff from the house, she will allow it. We'll probably wait a few months and see if things calm down and we can speak to each other again before we attempt that. It's strange, because when we first arrived at the house we were told we had to get everything out of the house today because we wouldn't be allowed to return.

After two hours of packing, Dorian had to leave to prepare for the first of three weddings he was performing today. Oddly, just as he was saying goodbye a car parked in front of the house and out jumped four Mormon missionaries. They made a beeline for us and Dorian shook their hands and handed out campaign flyers for the PC party. Then he told the guys what we were doing, and they offered to help us pack the cars. Great! I had already piled up loads of stuff on the driveway and just said to take whatever they could and fit it in whichever car they could. They were all very nice, and I think once I'm settled I'll have to write their church here a letter of thanks and maybe make some kind of donation to their church in gratitude. I joked about God working in mysterious ways, and they all had a laugh about it.

I managed to remove a bunch more engines from the basement, and will have to get them to the model club guys when possible. I'm just glad I managed to get them.

I'm glad this part is over. I felt sick when I woke up this morning and had to take medicine to be well enough to go out today. I don't feel sick any more, just very tired and I need a shower. I'll probably sleep the rest of today.

The topic of placing toilet paper between the cheeks was brought up a couple of weeks ago, and has since been repeated as something done only by the freak that mentioned it in conversation (not naming names). So have a read of this one.

http://b3ta.com/questions/farting/post84701/

Gilly phoned me late this afternoon and said she got a phone message from Mom. The message said Mom had packed up all Gilly's belongings and she wanted Gilly to phone and let her know when she'd pick them up so Mom could leave them on the curb.

Gilly left a message for Dorian, and I've tried him a couple of times tonight to no avail. I know he's busy, but he did say he would do this for us, and I'm hoping he gets on with it and follows through soon.

I spent this afternoon seeking out emerald green fabric for curtains in my new room. I found some with pretty well the same print as the other curtains in Gilly's apartment, but it's $15 a metre so I decided to wait as the saleslady said it goes on special regularly. I looked around at ready-made curtains, but nobody had emerald green. Gru.

The phone just rang at Ellen's, and being home alone I answered it. It was Mom.

"Hello, Ellen?"
"No, I'm sorry, she's not here right now. May I take a message?"
"No, leave it." <click>

So the jig is up. Mom knows I'm here. I called Dorian and let him know, and he said he hasn't spoken with her yet. I'll have to bug him about it again later, as per his instructions.

In other news, last night was the last meeting of my singles' club with me as organiser. It was bittersweet, but positive overall and I left feeling good about how it ended. I just updated the web site and sent out my final newsletter to the group.

Our mini-golf game at Cardinal Golf Club was the most
exciting round of mini-golf in my life. Explosions and
scary moving miners shocked us at a few points, and
some players set booby traps for others. We had a
large group of twelve people that night, including two
new members who jumped into our wacky club with both
feet. After the game we went to Al Gonquin's and took
over the patio for a couple of hours. At the end of it
all, lots of phone numbers and hugs were exchanged,
and the era of Ali running the YYSN officially ended.

Thank you to everyone who showed up to make my last
event as organiser so special. I really feel
appreciated and hope that the group continues under
the guidance of Chris. Please join the new Meetup
group as this list will no longer be active. Through
Meetup you can RSVP and see who else will be at an
event. There are message boards, and you can contact
other members through the site without revealing your
e-mail address if you wish. Thanks also to Jay and
Stacey for volunteering to help Chris run the group.
Anyone else wishing to help out can contact Chris
through the Meetup web site.
http://singles.meetup.com/1199/

Take care everybody, and keep in touch! - Ali

I'm back at Ellen's after a few days with Gilly, and Max is all excited to see me. On Thursday I took a whole vanload of my stuff from Austin's house to make the gas expenditure worthwhile. On the way I visited Jess, and we ate a box of Pot of Gold chocolates, bummed around her mall, and watched The Number 23. Good times.

At Gilly's place, I asked the super for an extra storage locker for a couple of weeks, so he gave me one. It's confirmed, we won't be in any earlier than August 1, but we'll have until August 4 to empty Gilly's place.

I spoke to Dorian over the weekend, he's agreed to arrange a time with Mom this week when he and I can go over and get the rest of my stuff, and hopefully not need police because he'll be there to distract her. The $2500 death benefit cheque I've been witing for came on Thursday, and I deposited into the estate account. However, when I tried to withdraw the $2400 owed to me for memorial expenses and car repairs, the bank manager said she couldn't release it until the whole estate is settled. I was really upset, as I have hardly any money left and EI still hasn't started. I called Dorian when I left the bank and he said he would try to convince Mom to give me the money owed. I think he's being optimistic, but I appreciate him trying. Every time I talk to Dorian, he asks if I've spoken to Mom yet and he's surprised when I say no.

Anyway, the bank manager called on Friday and told me head office said we should have never opened an estate account because it requires a probated will. She advised me not to bother with paying for probate since there aren't any more cheques coming to the estate. She said she's required to transfer the $2500 to my mom's account, and the few hundred dollars remaining in the account can be transferred to mine and I'll administer things through my account. But then, that'll screw things up with ODSP if I do that, so I'll have to have Gilly administer it through an account in her name.

On Saturday Gilly picked up registered mail sent to her, and it turned out to be to me c/o Gilly. It was from Mom - Application forms for British pension, requiring Dad's birth and death certificates, which I have. However, she also put in her own original birth certificate and marriage license, meaning I have a bargaining chip as far as getting the money from her. So I let Dorian know, and he's going to spell it out to her that she needs to give me my $2000 before I'll give her the documents she needs.

Some might say I'm being mean, but I have to do what I have to do. I have no money. If I can't pay my rent, it's Gilly that suffers. I dare not try to work right now, aside from the fact that I need a two-hour nap every two hours at the moment. I'm going to live on EI while it lasts, as it should start any day now and will pay for another 3 months. About the time it runs out the ODSP decision should come through. If ODSP rejects me, I'll get a job at that point, but if I work before then, I'm automatically rejected. If I get ODSP, I'll have medical benefits to pay for my drugs. Moving to Kitchener, I won't have access to $5 birth control pills any more, and now that I know I have PCOS I MUST take them. I contacted a doctor in Kitchener today and made an appointment, letting the secretary know I'll need free samples of pills. Birth controll pills are about $45 a month, and then I need to make sure my antidepressant supply keeps up too. Anyway, if I get ODSP, once I'm on it I'm allowed to work and they only dock the first $150 a month off my pension cheques. I would still get to keep my medical benefits even if I made enough money to not get my pension any more. If I get a job and can't keep it, if it's within a year I go right back on full ODSP without reapplying It's good, it'll give me a safety net so I can try work but not have to stay in an abusive situation like I have so many times out of desperation. So it's verymuch worth it for me to just try to live on $800 a month for a few months. If Dorian can get me the money from Mom, it won't be as scary.

When I go to the house, I plan to take as much frozen and canned food as possible, since there's loads there that Mom doesn't like. I won't have to buy much food for a while. It'll suck living on frozen and canned food, but I won't be paying for it. I'd just have to buy milk and bread and probably a few fresh veggies. But meat, cabbage rolls, vegetable soups... they have nutrition in them. Lots of salt, but then my blood pressure isn't as consistently high as it was when I lived there. It'll be no worse than the copious amounts of fast food I've been eating while homeless.