There is not much happiness to report. On Saturday, I came down with a bad cold, and I'm still pretty sick, doing nothing but sitting around waiting for it to blow over. Someone came the other day of the brigade of people that desperately wants me to move into adult foster care. The government is tired of paying for me to be here when, according to them, there is no longer any medical reason for me to stay. They can't just kick me out on the street, but every couple weeks like clockwork, they try to pressure me into making a hasty decision. I don't really like it here but I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure that wherever I go will be better.
I'm down to just the $30 a month, so I'm effectively trapped, with no hope for a surprise windfall on the horizon this time.
When I was dancing somewhere recently, some guy came up to me and told me that I had to keep moving my chair in circles, because it made him feel better. WTF? Now I dance for other people? Sigh.
I'm sick, lonely and despondent with no happy words to write for anybody this time. I missed poker this week, and there will be no more massages until I can figure out the money thing. I can't go "home" for Christmas because my dad can't get adequate time off to help with my care and the fiancé can't do it by herself. I don't know what's happening for thanksgiving.
And the next person that tells me that this is all part of some grand plan is getting mowed down by a wheelchair going full speed without slowing down.
You have been warned.