Day Ninety-Eight

   ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS****

My day is pretty uneventful. My tooth hurts so I try to take it easy and relax as much as possible. I spend most of the day at the library watching Netflix. While I'm there Baby Mama texts me saying she wants to meet up there. Shortly after I receive another text from her phone but it's her boyfriend, sending me a message telling me that there will be a surprise baby shower for her tomorrow.  He tells me not to text back and he doesn't come with her to the library so I can't ask for details. I just have to try and wing it to get over there before they leave for Vancouver.

I text my case manager to ask if I can get an approved night out for tomorrow since it's Saturday. He says he'll email shelter. I am a horrible liar so I don't want to talk to Baby Mama now that I know about her surprise baby shower but I do go over and talk to her anyways. She starts saying things like, "I love when people try to surprise me..." I choose not to say a word but I'm scared I'm going to crack under pressure.

We go down to #2 so she can talk to staff about services for herself and her boyfriend. I go to the bathroom and when I come out she's gone. Staff tells me she said bye. I'm glad she left; I can't keep secrets like that. I kill time at Whole Foods until I go into shelter early to serve food. It's lasagna again tonight so I pretty much just sit there and crochet. Homeless kids aren't hungry enough to keep eating that stuff.

When I'm done I burn a cd for dish washing. I will get four nonuses for serving food and doing dishes. That means no more chores for the week pretty much. As I'm burning my cd and talking to Houdini the ginger clan starts their nightly drama. This carries on much too long and goes much too far. I try to ignore them and ask staff to intervene like I agreed to with my case manager but they make it impossible. They start screaming that I'm being mean to their fetus so the only thing I end up saying to them personally is, "No one cares about your baby," because no one does. Homeless kids have so many other things to worry about than what's going on in her uterus.

It gets to the point where the angry black lady that bitched me out for the streaky mirror calls me over. She tells me she doesn't want what's going on to continue and apologizes for the mirror fiasco, asking to turn over a new leaf. I appreciate her in this and she says to tell her every time the ginger clan create problems and she'll do her best to stomp it out. The boy who gave me the laptop charger says, "M, why do you let them get to you like that? You're better than them. It's just playing on your insecurities. Ignore them."

"Why do you care so much?" I ask him, genuinely curious.
"I have wisdom and I just like to share it," he smiles.
"Too bad wisdom doesn't wash dishes."

I hide in my kitchen sanctuary with angry feminist music blasting. When I'm done I take a shower and go to bed, thinking about the baby that's coming in only 20 something days.

--mm