You’re probably thinking “What? Are we seriously still doing this?” And the answer is yes… yes we are.
So why wasn’t there a homeless post last week? Well, mostly because last week I got a touch of the “what kind of jacked-up adult am I” weepies. But I’m back now: still homeless in a quasi sort of way, and still somewhat hopeful that one day I’ll get my memory foam mattress back. And so we carry on for what has to be CLOSE-TO-THE-END-OF-THIS-ADVENTURE-FOR-THE-LOVE-OF-GOD!
Whew, that got away from me at the end. What was I saying? Oh, that’s right… I’m totally fine…
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Homeless Log, Day #33
I’m staying with my wonderful friends the Whites this week. They are a majestic couple, always taking in their friends who need a place to stay. And no, I’m not exaggerating that fact at all. Their spare bedroom is like a Bed & Breakfast that is in constant rotation among their friends. They are sweet and loving and they host people with the efficiency and perfection of Navy Seals! For real, staying with them is like this:
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Homeless Log, Day #34
The Whites are also pregnant, so I like to think that me staying with them is great parent-training. You see, I am kind of a lot to handle. I know that is probably super surprising to everybody here, but alas it is true. So this is excellent practice for my friends who are about to have their first little baby, because the similarities between myself and a baby are astounding!
I’m pleased to report that the Whites will be wonderful parents based on the way they are raising me.
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Homeless Log, Day #35
“You know Tracy, Job lost his house too.”
“Yes, but Job owned that house, so he was already doing a lot better than I am… you know, minus all the boils and everyone he knew dying…”
“I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“Plus I’m sure he got a good settlement out of his homeowner’s insurance. I mean, his claim was against God, so who’s going to deny that claim?”
“Um…?”
“What is the nature of your claim? Oh, God burned my house down.”
“Please stop.”
“And it’s not like the insurance company wouldn’t have believed him because they had A LOT of similar claims in their Old Testament file. Those were some super angsty years and there were all kinds of things happening. Fire and locusts and flood damage.”
“I… no”
“I’m just saying, Biblical Insurance was a tough racket. That’s probably why our rates are so high now. Thanks a lot, Job! It’s not enough that you owned a house, you also had to increase my insurance liability rates!”
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Homeless Log, Day #36
I’ve been doing a lot of reading in my favorite coffee shop in the evenings for 3 reasons: (1) I love to read, (2) my coffee shop has big comfy leather chairs that sit around a stone fireplace, and (3) in an effort to be the best house guest of all time I stay out late, so that way I can just swoop in before bed for some fun chat, they don’t get sick of my face, and our friendships aren’t destroyed by the fact that they have a stray homeless woman living in their home.
In today’s coffee shop reading, which comes from the wonderful book FURIOUSLY HAPPY by The Bloggess, I stumbled upon this little gem:
So apparently I am just really really REALLY creative! So creative, in fact, that all of my stuff is in storage and I have a suitcase in my car! Some day Art History students will study this period in my life and say “Wow, what a creative genius! I wish I could be as innovatively homeless as her! It’s this steady income and central heating that’s keeping me from finding my muse.”
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Homeless Log, Day #37
Thanked the Whites for letting me stay and assured them that “No, I should be fine. I’m going tomorrow to look at a room listing I found on Craigslist.” I left feeling happy and optimistic.
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Homeless Log, Day #38
Craigslist is a dark place.
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Homeless Log, Day #39
Cried panicked tears that there was no place in the world for me to live and I was going to have to move into one of these awful Craigslist places, and then I would most definitely get murdered and my organs would be harvested. Got sad thinking about the awful childhood yearbook photos the news would use on my one hour Crime TV special.
Called the Whites and they invited me back.
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Homeless Log, Day #40
At what point in my caravan travels do I become an actual, bonafide gypsy? Like, at what point can I start reading palms and telling the future? And also say cryptic, hex-like things to people? Does that kick in at 3 months?
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Homeless Log, Day #41
Had to leave work early because I’m working an adjusted schedule at the office this week. You know what’s funny about leaving work early? It’s only a good thing if you have somewhere to go. If you’re quasi-homeless, however, it’s just 3 extra hours you have to kill on top of the 5 hours you already had to kill because you don’t want to be in your host family’s way all evening.
In other news: since I got off work early I started reading the book Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children today. It is not a short book. Also today: I finished Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. And no… no, I am not a fast reader. Thank you adjusted work schedule.
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Homeless Log, Day #42
While at work:
Katelyn: “Did you hear that 2 criminals escaped locally?”
Anne: “Hey Tracy, that means that 2 rooms just opened up!”
Tracy: “That… could actually work?”
Katelyn: “And the utilities would be free.”
Anne: “No rent either.”
Tracy: “Plus I would finally have time to exercise. Right now I can’t seem to swing that. It would be nice to have more time outdoors?”
Anne: “It sounds like a pretty great deal.”
Tracy: “This might actually be the best option that I have?”
Anne: “Yeah, but it’s easier getting in than it is getting out, so make sure you’re ready to commit.”
Tracy: “Nah, I hate commitment. This is why I can’t have nice things.”
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Homeless Log, Day #43
If I was a wizard my patronus would be that little fish that lives on the faces of sharks and mooches off them to stay alive. You know, the ones that just latch on to another organism and uses that animal to feed it and swim it around like aquatic butlers.
Google says it’s called a remora, and that it totally CAN live on it’s own, but it chooses not to. And that in Latin, remora actually means “delay”. That… feels accurate.
EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!!……..
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Homeless Log, Day #44
Left the White’s house again with my suitcase packed, thanking them for a second week of soft blankets, family dinners, and not getting tetanus from sleeping in an alley. Assured them again that I was all set and I thought I had a place to stay.
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Homeless Log, Day #45
Slept for 24 hours straight at my mom’s house (not exaggerating).
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Homeless Log, Day #46
Found a great house for sale!!! It was in my price range and had everything I wanted, and was also in a mostly non-stabby neighborhood!
And then somebody put an offer in the day before I was scheduled to see it. But then I decided I didn’t give a sh*t about their offer, which was already accepted by the seller. So I put in a back up offer anyway! Take that Real Estate, you cold frigid b*tch!
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Homeless Log, Day #47
…waiting…
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Homeless Log, Day #48
…waiting…
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Homeless Log, Day #49
…waiting…
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Homeless Log, Day #50
Ready????? Drumroll please….
My offer on my dream house got accepted!!!!!
I wanted to celebrate, but my excruciating year long house-hunting-kick-in-the-teeth made me afraid to feel joy in all house-related situations. So I remain hopeful but leery, like a squirrel surrounded by bloodthirsty laser sharks who have hooks for hands. Hooks which are also holding 30 year contracts with an interest rate you aren’t super crazy about. I’m sure you’ve seen this in the wild.
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Homeless Log, Day #51
Turns out there’s more to buying a house than just saying “I want that one”, so I have to wait or something? Well, in the meantime if you need me…
for a rainy day 
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