Life takes strange twists and turns, and the past three weeks have been twistier than usual.
Looking at my situation from the outside, things look pretty dire. Being basically homeless at my age is no fun at all. I'm sure it's not fun for younger people either, but unfortunately I am experiencing what people have said all my life, "Things are much more difficult when you are older." I never thought of myself as "older," but I do now.
I am fortunate in that I am basically healthy, active and of sound mind (although some might question that assumption!) and have very supportive friends. But regardless, traveling and making a living is a LOT harder now! I could go into the whole thing of older women and jobs, older women and stereotyping, some of which is true but most is bs. The majority of us are not as physically strong as we used to be, we certainly don't look like the young chickies out there in the working world. But we (mostly) are not dumb or incapable and it really pisses me off to know I get passed over for any job, regardless of my qualifications, because of my age. I gave up applying for any job, let alone one doing something I know and love, because I knew it was pointless to continue.
I Did Have a Plan
When I left South Africa for California, I had a plan. I would see Ryan for a few days, see Betsy, go to Bobbie's memorial, go to Mexico and stay for a few months writing about tequila and then, once Ryan has it set up, head to Belize to organize getting the airbnb or whatever we decided on, going. A plan! A direction!
Then BAM! The rug was pulled out from under me when my so-called "friend" I was sharing an apartment with in Mexico did a runner.
Since being back in California, I have felt like my whole existence is quivering on quicksand. The great idea I had has not worked out, requiring too much money to get it going. (Obviously, it wasn't as good an idea as I thought it was.) My house in Washington finally went on the auction block 10 days ago so now I really am homeless. That was a sad day - teary-eyed on one hand but relieved on the other. In the past, the house has always been there as a safety net of sorts, a place I could retreat to. No longer...
There but for the Grace of Friends Go I
Now I am relying on the grace of friends and family for a place to stay or I could end up on the streets as many men and women in my situation have!
And that is a whole different topic which is scary as hell!
But things are not so dire, really. Here I am, staying with friends and family whenever I can, the weather is warm and I have the luxury of time to figure out my future. The scariest part of the whole situation is the instability, the not knowing and having no direction.
But for now my plan is minimal - have a safe place to stay, get my paperwork in order in California for medicare etc., then consider my options.
Then, who knows?