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I cooked up that heading on the bus today and laughed out loud like a crazy person. A few passengers shot me sideways glances. The smelly guy beside me got up and changed seats, which I was glad for. Crazy, it seems, has its advantages. All kidding aside, two mildly good things actually happened to me in the past 12 hours: First, I phoned EI (Employment Insurance, aka UIC, aka "the dole") to inquire if they have made a decision yet about my pending "regular" benefits claim (my medical EI claim ran out December 26th - Merry Hoho to me). I explained that I'm getting anxious since I now have a measly $3o left in my bank account.
GOOD THING #1:
Astounding! They (EI) are going to exercise their glorious power to "make a judgement call," and put a RUSH on their decision. Wow. A "rush." I will hear yes or no within the next 24 hours, instead of "by the 21st of January" as they originally stated. The guy I spoke to on the EI hotline, his name was Kevin by the way, (inside joke), actually listened to me and processed the unbridled fear in my voice. "You sound like you're stressing about your finances," said Kev, my new best friend. "Um, yeah, Kevin, I've had to go to the food bank because I can't afford groceries," I confessed, "I start an employment search program tomorrow and I'm almost out of money for bus fare." The moral of this story is: if you actually sound like a lunatic, EI can rush their decision. File that away for future reference, people! I guess a panic attack can have an upside. What a way to start the day. So I'm on pins and needles, as my mum used to say. No doubt I won't get a wink of sleep tonight. Even if I get approved, I won't have enough for rent, but hey, at least it's ... something. If EI says no, I'm absolutely hooped. I will get evicted and have 10 days to vacate. Where will I go? I have no idea. How I will get there is another mystery since I don't own a car. I will have no choice but to go on welfare and stay on a friend's couch. Any volunteer sofas? Or will I end up at the YMCA? My oh-so-beloved cat will have to go to a neighbour, OMG, I can't stand that thought. That is the worst in all of this, the possibility of being separated from my cat, even if it's only for a few months. And she's a "special needs" cat too, terrified of all people except me. Her name is Mouse because she's a "fraidy cat." She is completely bonded to me and won't fit in to someone else's home and care easily. In fact, it would be traumatic for her, and I would be utterly heart broken. We have our own patterns, daily routines and special language, my cat Mouse and I. All you true pet people know what I'm talking about. Plus, how on EARTH am I going to move myself and all my stuff with RA? I can't lift boxes and sofas and bookcases! And where will all my furniture go? Certainly not to the "Y." I'll have to phone every friend I have and grovel for help moving. Heads up peeps. Maybe I'll ask ol' Kevin to help me move. I'll bet he'd be good at it. Really though, I know I should arrest my own thought process, my head is spinning with dreaded "what ifs." I can't help it. Breathing shallow. Hands clammy ... Ok, so yadda, yadda, I'm scared pooless BUT ...
GOOD THING #2:
I FINALLY got all the necessary paperwork to the employment search program that I was referred to. It took me a 2-hour bus ride in the rain, and when I got there, the original forms finally showed up in the mail. Damn that Murphy guy and his pessimistic law. However, I have my first appointment with an employment counsellor tomorrow. Woo hoooo! Positive action! At least I moved an inch forward today. It won't pay the bills yet, but SOON, I hope, I'll be employed again and back on track. Get THIS: They pay for my bus transfers to and from their office. What a relief since, otherwise, I wouldn't be able to afford to go there and get help finding a job. How ironic is that. In case you are just tuning in to this blog, I have Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) so I can't type for more than a few hours or do any job that requires me to stand, as my feet are "fubar." I need the job placement experts for people with disabilities. They understand my limitations and highlight my strengths. They can help me work at my optimum and within my capabilities. Ok, enough for one day. Wow, this was a boring post, eh? Chockablock full of fears. I'm tired and wired. Cross your fingers, eyes, toes, whatever you can cross, you world, you.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Everyone hates a whiner, right?
First of all, thanks to the people who are rooting for me. God love ya! AND ... drum roll ... I heard through the grapevine that someone read this blog and donated food to their local food bank. WELL DONE, YOU!!!! That makes it all worth it for me.
Today is a tough one: maybe it's the nicotine withdrawals and/or the prednisone, but my emotions are all in a twist. I had to go back to my doctor's office yesterday and ask her to to fill out the forms again that she already filled out on December 30th, as they have gone AWOL in the mail. The forms qualify me for a provincial employment search assistance program for people with disabilities. Yes, there's the horrible "D" word. I shudder every time I hear it. But, even though my doctor speaks a harsh truth, I like her. She's honest and straightforward. As she filled out the forms, she muttered the words aloud that she was writing: "Prognosis poor ... will continue to deteriorate ... " Yeesh. So this morning, I have to go hand-deliver the forms to the D-place. I feel like a kid whistling in the dark. Tra-la-la .....
One friend told me I paint a bleak picture, but three others say I have a great attitude. Well, which is it? Funny how people see things differently. I think the picture IS bleak, it doesn't require a coat of gloomy paint from me. Personally, I think it's amazing that I haven't chucked myself off a bridge yet. At least I'm trying to find the humour in it. Here's one: most mornings, my cat licks my closed eyelids to wake me up when she wants food. How cute is THAT?? Maybe I should figure out whose eyelids I need to lick.
But back to reality, everyone hates a whiner. Even me. And apparently, even my own brother. A few people have asked me where my family is in all this: Both my parents are deceased; my mum died of breast cancer in 2001 and my dad passed away just last year, making me a 40-something-year-old orphan. My one, extraordinarily successful sibling lives on another continent and clearly doesn't give a crap. I sent him a link to my blog last week so he could track my progress. He immediately assumed I was asking him for money and I haven't heard from him since. I'm sure he finds this blog quite distasteful.
Hey bro, if you read this: I never asked you for a cent and don't send me money if you don't want to! I don't care about that. But c'mon, at least have a heart.
Today is a tough one: maybe it's the nicotine withdrawals and/or the prednisone, but my emotions are all in a twist. I had to go back to my doctor's office yesterday and ask her to to fill out the forms again that she already filled out on December 30th, as they have gone AWOL in the mail. The forms qualify me for a provincial employment search assistance program for people with disabilities. Yes, there's the horrible "D" word. I shudder every time I hear it. But, even though my doctor speaks a harsh truth, I like her. She's honest and straightforward. As she filled out the forms, she muttered the words aloud that she was writing: "Prognosis poor ... will continue to deteriorate ... " Yeesh. So this morning, I have to go hand-deliver the forms to the D-place. I feel like a kid whistling in the dark. Tra-la-la .....
One friend told me I paint a bleak picture, but three others say I have a great attitude. Well, which is it? Funny how people see things differently. I think the picture IS bleak, it doesn't require a coat of gloomy paint from me. Personally, I think it's amazing that I haven't chucked myself off a bridge yet. At least I'm trying to find the humour in it. Here's one: most mornings, my cat licks my closed eyelids to wake me up when she wants food. How cute is THAT?? Maybe I should figure out whose eyelids I need to lick.
But back to reality, everyone hates a whiner. Even me. And apparently, even my own brother. A few people have asked me where my family is in all this: Both my parents are deceased; my mum died of breast cancer in 2001 and my dad passed away just last year, making me a 40-something-year-old orphan. My one, extraordinarily successful sibling lives on another continent and clearly doesn't give a crap. I sent him a link to my blog last week so he could track my progress. He immediately assumed I was asking him for money and I haven't heard from him since. I'm sure he finds this blog quite distasteful.
Hey bro, if you read this: I never asked you for a cent and don't send me money if you don't want to! I don't care about that. But c'mon, at least have a heart.
Monday, January 11, 2010
MSN News today: "Save $500 for emergencies." Are you kidding? Let's do the math, shall we?
Hold me back, please, I'd like to slap someone across the face. An MSN reporter today suggests: it is wise to save $500 (or more) as an emergency fund, even if you're living paycheque to paycheque. Oh yeah, Mr. Journalist? Let's see you try it! Take a walk in my shoes whydontcha! The cost of living has continued to rise, while employers have been taking advantage of the number of jobless for the past two years, offering pittance salaries. It doesn't matter that I have a Bachelor's degree, most "sanitation engineers," these days have an MBA. Oh, why didn't I finish my post-grad degree, I could have been a Garbage Collector! Cue the dreamy music.
Even so ... the article goes on to say that $500 is often enough to avoid bounced cheque fees and payday lenders, and/or cover most minor emergencies. OK, where do you LIVE? I want to move there! I had a $3,000 cushion, but that was six months ago and it's long gone. I once heard (from yet another financial advisor) that the right amount to save is the equivalent of three months' living expenses. Guess what? That comes to about $3,000 in my case, and again, THAT WAS SIX MONTHS AGO. That's how long I've been unable to work because of my RA, and my last employer didn't offer any kind of long-term disability plan, so I was S.O.L. despite having more in my emergency savings than many of my peers. By the way, I inherited the $3K, so don't go thinking I'm some sort of money magician. There was NO WAY I could save that kind of cash, since I was living from one paycheque to the next. My old boss was El Cheapo. I confess, I did go a little bananas when I first got the inheritance fund. I bought myself a new $800 sofa, on sale. I'd been living with a springs-shot eyesore that a friend gave me ten years ago, which I intercepted as it was being tossed to the curb. At the time I bought the new sofa, I was gainfully employed. After all, I could afford it, I had FINALLY landed a job with a decent salary. Two months later my hands seized up, and voila. Unable to work. Stuck at home, in pain, slowly watching my remaining $2,200 emergency fund fade away. I'd sell the damn sofa right now if I could, but the cat clawed it minutes after I moved it in, so let's just say its value instantly depreciated SIGNIFICANTLY. I still love the cat. The sofa, not so much.
Add this up: I pay just under $800 rent per month for a tiny 500 sq.ft. studio apartment in Vancouver (no, it doesn't have a separate bedroom) that faces the parking lot and trash bins. The avocado green appliances are circa 1954 - and I'm not exaggerating, I actually asked the landlord. It's no luxury suite and the rent is considered cheap for Vancouver. Add in hydro, cable, internet and phone, I spend around $1,100 - $1,200 per month, give or take, just on basics. That doesn't include the monthly $300 I have to shell out for RA medication, or contingencies like the 2 emergency dental appointments I had to make in December just so that every time I sucked in air, I didn't turn blue in agony. I don't buy "frills." While I'll be the first one to admit I'm no whizz with money, (although how would I know? I've never had any), I'm not a complete idiot either.
On medical EI, I got about $1200 a month. That paid for rent, my phone, and my TV and internet cable connection. So every month, I had to dig into my savings for food money, and at about $100 a pop each week at the grocery store, money goes fast. Save some? Wanna tell me how? Even with a respectable income, the tax man takes it all - sing those lyrics ABBA! Haha. I have spent at least $1,500 on medications in the past six months. There goes my savings, and now I am almost out of meds. Bracing myself ...
If regular EI kicks in, I will just be able to make it. If not, Welfare pays about $800 per month. That's below the poverty line, isn't it? And they force you to find a place to live for under $450 or they withold your money. Do you realize what that buys you in Vancouver? A closet in a 2-bedroom house, shared with a family of twelve. Has anyone got a bedbug-infested hovel up for grabs?
Stay tuned. Now, back to job hunting.
Even so ... the article goes on to say that $500 is often enough to avoid bounced cheque fees and payday lenders, and/or cover most minor emergencies. OK, where do you LIVE? I want to move there! I had a $3,000 cushion, but that was six months ago and it's long gone. I once heard (from yet another financial advisor) that the right amount to save is the equivalent of three months' living expenses. Guess what? That comes to about $3,000 in my case, and again, THAT WAS SIX MONTHS AGO. That's how long I've been unable to work because of my RA, and my last employer didn't offer any kind of long-term disability plan, so I was S.O.L. despite having more in my emergency savings than many of my peers. By the way, I inherited the $3K, so don't go thinking I'm some sort of money magician. There was NO WAY I could save that kind of cash, since I was living from one paycheque to the next. My old boss was El Cheapo. I confess, I did go a little bananas when I first got the inheritance fund. I bought myself a new $800 sofa, on sale. I'd been living with a springs-shot eyesore that a friend gave me ten years ago, which I intercepted as it was being tossed to the curb. At the time I bought the new sofa, I was gainfully employed. After all, I could afford it, I had FINALLY landed a job with a decent salary. Two months later my hands seized up, and voila. Unable to work. Stuck at home, in pain, slowly watching my remaining $2,200 emergency fund fade away. I'd sell the damn sofa right now if I could, but the cat clawed it minutes after I moved it in, so let's just say its value instantly depreciated SIGNIFICANTLY. I still love the cat. The sofa, not so much.
Add this up: I pay just under $800 rent per month for a tiny 500 sq.ft. studio apartment in Vancouver (no, it doesn't have a separate bedroom) that faces the parking lot and trash bins. The avocado green appliances are circa 1954 - and I'm not exaggerating, I actually asked the landlord. It's no luxury suite and the rent is considered cheap for Vancouver. Add in hydro, cable, internet and phone, I spend around $1,100 - $1,200 per month, give or take, just on basics. That doesn't include the monthly $300 I have to shell out for RA medication, or contingencies like the 2 emergency dental appointments I had to make in December just so that every time I sucked in air, I didn't turn blue in agony. I don't buy "frills." While I'll be the first one to admit I'm no whizz with money, (although how would I know? I've never had any), I'm not a complete idiot either.
On medical EI, I got about $1200 a month. That paid for rent, my phone, and my TV and internet cable connection. So every month, I had to dig into my savings for food money, and at about $100 a pop each week at the grocery store, money goes fast. Save some? Wanna tell me how? Even with a respectable income, the tax man takes it all - sing those lyrics ABBA! Haha. I have spent at least $1,500 on medications in the past six months. There goes my savings, and now I am almost out of meds. Bracing myself ...
If regular EI kicks in, I will just be able to make it. If not, Welfare pays about $800 per month. That's below the poverty line, isn't it? And they force you to find a place to live for under $450 or they withold your money. Do you realize what that buys you in Vancouver? A closet in a 2-bedroom house, shared with a family of twelve. Has anyone got a bedbug-infested hovel up for grabs?
Stay tuned. Now, back to job hunting.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Inspired
I feel good today. I made the cucumber & onion salad with salt, pepper, olive oil and the last of the balsamic vingar, it was so good, like abrosia. I feel stronger. And a friend bought me some groceries! You know who you are. I love you for that. May your generosity come back to you a hundredfold. I also think blogging is helping me stay grounded. Boy, I sure picked a lousy time to quit smoking though, didn't I? haha. I quit last month but slipped back into it. Now I've quit again on New Years Day, so far so good. I'm still smoke free! Besides, I don't have the money for cigarettes anyway. I hope this all turns out to be a rags-to riches-story. Wouldn't that be something? I've been down and out before, a long time ago, and I came back fighting. There weren't blogs back then, what a shame. A friend of mine suggested I send a link to NO BREAD TODAY to my MLA so they can see what their constituents are going through. What do you think?
I had a comment about my blog today, someone said, "That is so sad." Yes, it is, but that's not my point. I plan to do everything in my power to surmount these difficulties. Wanna cheer me on? Please cheer. Cheer for all of those in my shoes and while you're at it, please give donations to your local food bank. You'd be surprised how long those lines are.
I had a comment about my blog today, someone said, "That is so sad." Yes, it is, but that's not my point. I plan to do everything in my power to surmount these difficulties. Wanna cheer me on? Please cheer. Cheer for all of those in my shoes and while you're at it, please give donations to your local food bank. You'd be surprised how long those lines are.
Friday, January 8, 2010
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."
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."
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