It seems like I may always be imminently homeless. The search continues to find bridge housing after I finish my time at the coop and before I head back home. At the beginning of the summer, the same situation happened (kicked out of housing before other housing began) yet I happily found a place with a co-worker. Thus, the quest begins again.
The thing is, I only really need a place to crash for a week. No ads for housing give you a week to rent. I can just imagine the upturned noses and wrinkled faces that may look at me in disbelief. I've looked on Craig's list (some people swear by this list that offers scores on housing, and, well, questionable scores in the bedroom as well) and at the local housing office. Nada. I will rely on friends and roommates for the time being. We shall see.
And, lo and behold, Stefan has a home. Once again a coworker offered me a place to stay. Yay.
But this whole housing thing got me thinking. We are just perpetually homeless, moving all the time- accompanied by nothing but our music, plugged in. It's kinda weird if you look at things a certain way.
We're all but androids, taking public transportation, white earbuds plugged in, talking on cellphones, rushing. Soon enough we'll stop thinking and observing. Narrow tunnels. Dead eyes.
I'll shut up tomorrow and just write