Jo goes to the Food Bank

Here it is, a brand new year full of promise and possibilities, and I am in that horrible place so many of us are in or have been in before: in-between jobs and waiting for my first EI cheque to arrive. What is it now, a 2-month wait? Sheesh.

I'm a writer, so I need to share my feelings or bust. This might be my sanity journal during tough economic times, or a public record of my descent and decline into poverty, we shall see. My real name is Jo, but that's all I'm telling you of my true identity. You'll get the joke when you see the signature on my posts.

Being suddenly broke, I made some tough decisions this week. I called the phone company (the big T) and now have a simple phone line, no bundles, no features. I downgraded my cable to basic. OK, so far I'm not destitute. But I'm scared enough that I created a file on my desktop that I call "Panic Button." In it is the address of my local Welfare Office (Ministry of Housing and Social Services or whatever ...) and all the PovNet resources I could find, in the unfortunate event that I become homeless in the next 60 days. If I can't pay my February rent, this is a distinct and looming possibility - correction, almost a certainty.

I have to tell you about today's experience. I went to a food bank for the first time in my life. It has been an eye-opening experience and one that I would like to share. Despite some tongue-in-cheek commentary (this blog started out as an email to a friend), I want to be clear in stating that I am not complaining one bit. In fact, I am extraordinarily grateful. I love you, food bank people and donors, consider this your official electronic hug. We are blessed in Canada to have these resources and rest assured that when I am gainfully employed again, I will quadruple my donations and expand my Christmas food bank giving to "as often as possible."

THE FOOD BANK EXPERIENCE
After waiting in the rain for nearly an hour, I went in and registered (name, address, ID - there is a tracking system). You declare whether or not you are accepting food for yourself only, or for yourself plus "X" many kids. It's heartbreaking to imagine people trying to feed their family this way. You're then given a ticket, mine said "Single." Then you get in line and gratefully (truly) accept what they are able to give you. There are no aisles, no choosing. Just 6 people behind 6 fold-out tables, handing you a specified quantity (based on your ticket) of whatever food item they have on their tables. The first table is for children's food, so I bypassed it. Here is what the other 5 tables provided to me for one week:

2 small chicken-flavored tofu "breasts" (must weigh 4 ounces each, max)
1 can of tuna (that plus the tofu is only 3 servings of protein in total for 7 days)
1 litre carton of apple juice - which expired in October, 2009
6 small Activia yogurts, assorted flavors (Yay!) Not expired - good until Jan 14! Yesssss ...
1 box of stove top stuffing mix. WTF?
I box regular unflavored Quaker instant oatmeal (blah and bland, but I'll eat it)
5 mushy cucumbers (I'll eat the edible parts)
2 onions
4 small potatoes
3 apples
one small package chocolate-covered digestive cookies (Yay!)

Just imagine if that's all the food you had for a week. That's my reality today. Out of all this, I can have oatmeal for breakfast for a week and half an apple a day as a snack. I can make onion cucumber salad and mashed potatoes to have with 1/2 portion of tofu with a cookie for dessert. It's just enough for 4 days, 2 meals a day, if you can call those "meals." But you know what? It beats eating twigs and snow. Stretching it to 7 days? That will be challenging. I guess stove top stuffing will be my dinner for 2 consecutive nights. I felt oddly detached through the whole process, maybe in shock or disbelief that I'm actually "here." I'm just taking all this in as a new, bizarre experience. There was a sign that said, "NO bread today." I thought that might make an interesting title for a poem about surviving in jobless economic times. Instead, I created this blog.

Why? Because I am not alone in this pickle. Hmmm ... that's making me hungry. I know there are a lot of people like me out there and I have a new empathy for everyone who shares my predicament. My aim is not to create a forum for whining and complaining, rather, to support and encourage my peers who are going through recession hardships or, like myself, trying to cope with an ongoing medical issue (RA in my case.) I haven't been able to work for the past four months and have been on medical EI. Now my EI and savings have run out, so I'm hoping to qualify for regular EI benefits. I'll know by the end of January. No matter what may come, I think I'll be ok. I sure hope so. Even if I get evicted (please don't let me be tempting fate by saying that) and have to pack up and move to subsidized housing, there are worse things in life that could befall a person. As long as I don't have to give up my cat. She's my baby. I am going to do my damndest not to let that happen. I'm job hunting like mad. My career is Marketing Communications, so if you hear of any companies looking for a corporate writer, please let me know. As long as my internet connection holds out, I have half a chance of finding a job in the next few months. Any thoughts/feeling to share? I'd love to hear from people. Have you been "here?" How did you cope? What happened?

I'll keep you posted on how I fare through all this. Although I can tell you, I spent half the morning bawling my eyes out. I rarely indulge in self-pity, but I am truly overwhelmed.

Trying to keep the faith. Please God, "Give us this day our daily bread."