"The Sunshine Song" (Jason Mraz)

This is one of my favorite songs from my idol, Jason Mraz:

 

Well sometimes the sun shines on other people's houses and not mine.
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray
And it takes away my summertime.
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,
While I struggle to get mine.
If there's a light in everybody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

 

I want to walk the same roads as everybody else,

Through the trees and past the gates.
Getting high on heavenly breezes,
Making new friends along the way.
I won't ask much of nobody,
I'm just here to sing along.
And make my mistakes looks gracious,
And learn some lessons from my wrongs.

 

Well sometimes the sun shines on other people's houses and not mine.
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray
And it takes away my summertime.
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,
While I struggle to get mine.
A little light never hurt nobody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

 

Oh, if this little light of mine
Combined with yours today,
How many watts could we luminate?
How many villages could we save?
And my umbrella's tired of the weather wearing me down.
 Well, look at me now.

 

You should look as good as your outlook,
Would you mind if I took some time,
to soak up your light, your beautiful light?
You've got a paradise inside.
I get hungry for love and thirsty for life,
 But much too full on the pain,
When I look to the sky to help me
And often it looks like rain.

 

As the sun shines on other people's houses and not mine,
And the sky paints those clouds in a way
That it takes away the summertime,
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,
while I kindly stand by.
If there's a light in everybody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

 

You're undeniably warm, you're cerulean,
You're perfect in desire.
Won't you hang around
so the sun, it can shine on me,
And the clouds, they can roll away,
And the sky, can become a possibility?
If there's a light in everybody,
Send out your ray of sunshine.

 

 

Here is some concert footage of it. This is the best video I could find, but the beginning is a little blurry but it gets better after a minute as the camera adjusts. Sounds is great, though. 

 



Jason makes me happy! I think I'm going to spend the day and watch concert footage of my idol. That will be very uplifting!
 

One Year Closer to Death

Birthdays used to be fun. Lots of gooey cake with loads of frosting and candles, ice cream, presents, cards, balloons and parties full of stinky people. They sometimes signified momentous occasions like getting a driver's license, being able to vote, or do some legal drinking. Now they just mark time. And they come faster. Still, it's not good to wallow in self-pity and wonder where the years went feeling like my life is over when in fact, I've only lived half of it.

So I celebrated by buying myself some new BIRTHDAY SLIPPERS! Healthier than cake and ice cream and cheaper than plastic surgery.

There is nothing more cheerful than new birthday slippers with cheerful, artsy designs on them.  These are from the Haflinger collection and the style is called Calypso. Perfect name for the design because they are happy slippers made for dancing! So new and just out of the box they still have tags on them.

Here is a photo with my feet in them feeling happy:

 

I ordered them off the Zappos website. I so rarely order anything online for fear of screw ups, but the shoe store I normally go to didn't have my size or my normal color. In fact it didn't have hardly any sizes and only one color! With all wood and tile floors in my house, I need slippers to provide cushion to my feet. Most brands are made out of synthetic petro-based materials and manufactured in China. Chinese slippers make my feet sweat uncomfortably and if I'm ever caught in a house fire, they would melt on my feet. Gross.

Haflingers are Polish and made from natural boiled wool, not sprayed or treated, non-smelly without any chemicals, warm, and so comfortable. The last pair I bought were Haflingers, too. They had hard soles so I could walk around outside if I wanted. Well, I never go outside with them because I have no desire to contaminate the inside of my house with outside dirt. Unfortunately, those hard soles were noisy and left black marks all over my floors so I was hoping to find something less high maintenance.

Although the store failed miserably at making a sale, I feel very fortunate. I came home, got online and found them not only in my color, but in these wild colors! And this wild design doesn't have hard soles instead nice soft-ish ones with skid dots.



For those of you who might be interested in buying all wool slippers, they do wear out especially in the toes. My old ones are about three years old and they lasted that long only because I kept sewing the holes closed.

Thankfully I live alone or I'd be embarrassed! HA!

 

I normally wear my dark wool socks with them so the holes aren't as noticeable, but even socks won't help now that the holes are so big. The slippers were practically falling off me. I considered patching them up and then decided I deserved new, happy, birthday feet! Sometimes you just have to treat yourself!

 

On top of all that these were about $15.00 cheaper online and no shipping fees. It only took them four days to arrive just time for my very own personal holiday. The order asked me if I wanted to include a message with my package and I thought, WHY NOT? My message was:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOU!

HAHAHAHAHAHA

 

It makes one year closer to death a little easier to take.

Now I want some matching pajamas and bathrobe....strawberry colored.

FREEBIES!

I'm sure I've said this before, but I love Freecycle. It's like Christmas for free. Self-gifting. Personal presents. Since I'll not be moving anytime soon and that depresses me, I decided I needed some self-love. Then someone posted these:

TOASTER OVEN!

I fantasize about living in a tiny house and have read many replace full size ranges, stove/oven combinations, with single hot plates and a toaster oven or microwave. There is no way I would add a microwave to a tiny space. I can't imagine living too long with all those radiation waves bouncing around. I've never had a toaster oven, but I've been told you can use them for baking. This one goes up to 450 degrees! And thirty minutes. Bake or broil. I'm a little scared. I wonder if I put a piece of meat in there if the sizzling would cause a fire? I think most people use these for "toast", hence, the name, but I don't eat bread, or English muffins, or bagels so I need to be creative and try it out for other things.

 

TREADMILL!

I've always wanted a treadmill. Well, you know if I end up in a tiny house this will end up in the shed or sold at a garage sale, but for now I have lots of room and need to be able to walk inside so I don't have to suffer the indignity of dog barking. It's a manual and it works, but it's a very unnatural way to walk. One must jump on then force the tread to move by digging your feet into it and walking. I think it's more like climbing a mountain which provides a really good workout in a short amount of time, but I really need something for walking. I think a huge electric one would be better, but those are very heavy so I'm limited to what I can carry into the house myself. Oh well! Live and learn. It was free. It has come in handy when I get cold from lack of heat. I jump on it for five minutes and I'm sweating like a pig. Excellent!

I love freebies. Yet another cure for depression. I'm on my way to a positive attitude!

Stink Eye

I'm surrounded by dogs. My block has ten houses on it and seven of them have dogs. Some have multiple dogs. They all bark. Usually one at a time so all day long I have dog barking. Sometimes they bark all at once when one sets the others off like a domino effect. Some of the dogs bark exactly at the same time every day so I always know what time it is without looking at the clock. You'd think this might be a daily convenience, but it's not. It's obnoxious, rude, self-centered and entitled. It amazes me people are so incredibly sociopathic that they are oblivious or apathetic toward the people around them.

My second year in this house my closest neighbors moved in with three dogs ten feet away from me. They barked from six in the morning until one in the morning. All day long and into the night. Their ignorant owners left them home to lay around the yard with nothing to do. To entertain themselves they'd bark at the neighbors, the mail lady, the internet guy, the electric meter reader, the water guys, the religious people, other dogs, cats, birds, falling leaves, and wind. All day long. When they weren't barking, they were whining or howling. That year I lost $10,000 in income suffering the terrorism of barking dogs.

First, I approached the nasty dog woman and told her about the barking for hours at a time. I assumed she just didn't know and if she did she would want to be the good neighbor. She laughed and bragged about how energetic they were. The second time she bragged about how devoted they were and how they missed her when she was gone. The third time I wrote her a letter. The fourth time I wrote her a letter. The fifth time she came over to my house told me I was stalking her, her dogs have a right to bark, and I no longer get a quiet neighborhood so get used to it.

I called the police. They would come to my house and ask me what I would like them to do as if they had no idea how to do their job. Useless. The police chief told me to keep a DOG LOG so every time I'd hear barking I was supposed to stop what I was doing and log it. This went on for a year with absolutely no resolution. What a waste of my time. This is called revictimizing the victim. I learned a lot about law that year. Laws are in place to protect the perpetrators, not the victims. Several people in law enforcement repeated this to me. The barking continued. I wrote letters to the newspaper, the city council,  the city attorney and even the governor. The other neighbors empathized with me, but most said they didn't want to get involved. One told me it was a mistake to call the police as he would have "taken care of the dogs" for me. I asked him how long was I supposed to wait? Two years? Three years? What a arrogant, idiotic liar. I wish someone would "take care of his dogs". The neighbor on the other side of me said too cheerfully, "The barking doesn't bother me!" None of them were ten feet away from barking dogs.

Eventually all this went to court. The sociopathic dog owning neighbors were told to remove the dogs from the city limits and not return for a year. They still own the house. Although it's been seven years, I figure they could move back in any time with their nasty hell hounds. Yet another reason from a list of a hundred why I need to move. All my work did eventually pay off as I had the ordinances changed so barking dogs can now be impounded rather than be allowed to bark constantly while the city government decides what to do. I have no confidence in the police and I can't imagine they'd do anything other than ask with stupidity written all over their faces what they should do.

For the past seven years anytime anyone has a neighbor with a nuisance dog, they come to me to complain. I suffer their whining until I finally say, "Have you told the dog owner?" Oh, no, they can't do that. They'd rather gossip to everyone in the area rather than be honest with the person causing the problem. I'm pretty sure they expect me to be the responsible one. I tell them, "How fun for you. Tough luck." And then I laugh and walk away.

Recently one of my neighbors came running to me to complain about the new dog right next to them barking for hours late at night outside their bedroom window. I repeated what she said to me years before, "The barking doesn't bother me." I smiled cheerfully and added, "Now you know how I felt." She stomped away in frustration. Revenge is sweet. What people don't understand is if you don't work together in a neighborhood to combat nuisance behavior, no one will support you when you are the victim. Lesson learned, assholes.

People come, people go, and now the neighborhood is filled with dogs owned by trailer trash and sociopaths. This is the ghetto. The people living in the house next to me just got a new dog, an ugly little Chihuahua that they let out to bark at midnight, four in the morning and maybe once or twice during the day. The dog is small enough the barking doesn't stop me from what I am doing nor affect my income. It's just irritating. The other dogs are far enough away to be irritating, but they don't yet affect my quality of life.  It's all about proximity, a concept the law doesn't get when it comes to barking dogs.

A couple weeks ago one of my neighbors started giving me the stink eye every time I drove by her house, glaring at me like she's a thirteen year old bully attempting to express herself but she's too immature to communicate with words. She's lived next to me for three years with her barking dogs. Recently the loudest barking dog died and Stink Eye quickly replaced it with another one more energetic and louder. It barks throughout the day starting at 5:30 in the morning when I walk. As I pass by the house, it starts frantically barking at me in the window then it's allowed to run outside and torment the whole neighborhood as the noise reverberates through the darkness. Irritating as hell especially at close range, but again, the dog is far enough away so it doesn't disrupt my day when I'm in my house. I can't imagine how people live with a loud, barking dog right in their own home, but studies show the lower the person's IQ, the less barking noise is bothersome.

I don't care that she's giving me the stink eye although I'm baffled. She's rude, self-centered, entitled, obnoxious, and mentally ill as most dog owners are, but we've always pretended to be respectful of each other. Well, that's relative. I've secretly nicknamed her "The Nazi" because she's German and because Nazis used to torment people with their dogs as well. Still, why the stink eye, Stink Eye? (New nickname.) I have no idea. I've been pondering this for the last week.

Then I realized...her dog doesn't bark at 5:30 in the morning any more! In fact I haven't heard it during the day either. I've seen it out in the yard, but no barking. Did someone finally call the police? And she thinks it's me? Other neighborhood gossips might have whispered over the fence and blamed me as the police-caller. I have a history of that sort of behavior, you know.

I love it. I don't care if she thinks it's me as long as the dogs shut up. In fact, if someone called the police, a second call from a different house holds weight so I might as well call myself since she already might be thinking it's me. I wonder who it was?

One neighbor works graveyard and I know she hates barking dogs. She doesn't get along with Stink Eye because one of Stink Eye's dogs has attacked her dog more than once. She also used to work at the police dispatch so she has some clout. When I am walking and listening this dog barking she is just coming home and crawling into bed. Did she call? Maybe. The barker is much closer to her than me so it must make her crazy. Which is ridiculous since her dog barks all night when she's gone.

Or maybe Stink Eye is just on vacation and she removed her devil dogs from the property. Even that is good news although temporary and I get to look forward to noise returning soon. I'd be happier if someone called the police on her.

I do my best to avoid these people and the games they play, but they can't seem to stay away from me and persist in infecting my life with their stink and noise. I refuse to play their gossip games and I resent their intrusion in my life.

Can I move now?

My Remedy for Depression

I've heard depression is classified as self-anger. OK, I can accept that. I am angry at myself for wasting $700 plus $500 in multiple attempts to escape my circumstances and I am angry at myself for moving to these circumstances in the first place and getting stuck here. Understanding why I'm angry and depressed doesn't make it feel better. What does make it feel better is DEMOLITION. Or...I need a project! Something physically and mentally exhausting.



 

Remember my three-quarter antique spool bed I found free off Freecycle? The same bed I stripped and painted twice? It needs a mattress. Three-quarter size mattresses aren't common so this means I'd either have to special order one which is impossible since they soak them in formaldehyde and fire-resistant treatments OR make one. Making one involves finding organic mattress pads, stacking them, sewing them together, covering them, and hoping the plywood I place underneath as support doesn't stink to high heaven. I read I might need up to seven pads and at nearly $100 each, that's $700. Well, you know I already spent that money unwisely when it would have gone to better use toward a new mattress! Damn, that makes me angry.

The bed frame has been sitting mattress-less for the last six months. It depresses me to look at it. I need something to destroy, or rather, repurpose, so I decided to take it apart and make a bench out of it. This was my original plan for this bed as I didn't think it would be in such great shape. I figure the bench can serve as my new couch. The plan is to use the existing hardware so I can take it apart and move it easily. Currently my upholstered antique couch weighs nearly 2,000 pounds. It's hell to move. I'd love to sell it. I want something smaller and lighter weight. Can I do it?

The first challenge was figuring out how to cut the foot board in two parts without screwing it up. I looked forward to this as the foot board makes me angry. I thought the bed was in its original condition until my woodworking friend came over and pointed out the foot board decoration had been removed. Damn. Besides watching this bed sit for six months, looking at the foot board reminds me it's damaged. I want it to be pretty. It's not and that makes me angry. I need to annihilate it. (Expressing emotions is good....)

See the middle of the foot board where it's straight?
There used to be pretty woodcarving there probably
repeating the design of the head board.

Unfortunately, all I have is a hand saw. I bought it many years ago for one dollar and it has assisted me through all kinds of construction projects. I don't trust myself to be able to cut through twelve inches of wood by hand in a straight line. My woodworking friend suggested using a chop saw in order to get a straight, clean line and offered to let me use his. Bonus! Once I completed this very important step, I studied and contemplated the remaining steps and then continued to hand-saw all other wood pieces: the front board (made from the original bed rails) and the supporting seat boards. Physical labor makes a person forget about anger or depression. Especially if it hurts and hand-sawing hurts!

Check it out:

 

I have yet to make a cushion for it so I used my quilts and folded them up for some temporary padding.

Here is the view of the hardware so you can see how it all attaches. It was tricky.

I'll wait to touch up the paint this summer. I made all kinds of
mistakes in the name of demolition like drilling right
through the wood. HA!

 

If I were to attach everything permanently with screws, it would be the weight of a whole bed and too heavy for me to lift let alone move gracefully. That would make me angry.

There is a problem, however. When I picked up this bed from the Freecycle giver she told me, "It's a wonderful bed. Just don't have any monkey sex and it'll be fine." Now, I didn't ask for details. I thought it was really weird and little creepy a stranger would talk to me about monkey sex. I visualized this woman having monkey sex for a horrible instant and promptly ignored the comment pretending she never said it. Ah ha! Now I know what she meant...

It falls apart. Any little movement and the hardware attachments come undone. I would think a heavy mattress would hold it down and stabilize it, but according to the woman, I guess not. With much trepidation, I've test-sat on my new bench. It's not a relaxing piece of furniture nor something I would want to curl up on and watch some T.V. It wiggles. The first time I tried to move it from my guest bedroom to another bedroom, it leaned slightly, and the whole thing fell apart. SPLAT! If it wasn't so comical, it might have made me angry, but I had just finished hand-sawing six 2 x 4 pieces of wood so I was rather relaxed. Still, the splat did not give me great confidence...a bench sitter could get hurt. Not sure how to remedy the situation. I'll think on it.

Thinking and planning, besides physical labor, is also a remedy for depression. It occupies one's mind.

I feel better.

Snow and Frostbite

I still don't have a centralized heating system that keeps my whole house warm so I'm wrapping myself in my 30-degree-below-zero sleeping bag to keep from getting frostbite. We've had a cold spell here this last week. Very little humidity, dry, cold, and windy bringing the temperatures back down into the teens. But not today! It warmed up just long enough to snow!

I love snow. I'd love it more if I had heat. I think I'll have to cave and get some heat next week. I was hoping I could move instead, but that's not going to be happening. It's supposed to rain tomorrow.

Desperation = Stupidity

There aren't many rentals out there right now and I'd say for every one advertised there are at least thirty applicants. More if the place is clean, maintained, and in a decent neighborhood. Competition is tough. In the recent past I've been put on waiting lists as the landlords are overwhelmed by the response. Besides my long lists of non-toxic needs, this competition makes it even more difficult to find a new home. I want desperately to move out of Rathole. I'm a prisoner here. It's depressing.

I found another rental. The key is to respond as soon as they are posted, but I was told it was rented and the guy backed out. I should have taken that as a sign. It's a small, freestanding cottage with a small yard. I had misgivings right away as it's located in the same town as the Moldy Slumlady's mold-invested dive, but I was going to be up in that area and I thought I'd just look. Just look. Famous last words.

It was small and cute with a little bedroom loft. It had all electric appliances and heat and real hardwood floors. It also had a carpet, but the carpet had been offgassing for four years. They allowed pets. Carpet and pets on my "no way" list. It also had a non-existent crawlspace sealed up with wood planks with little evidence of ventilation...and a roof covered in moss. That screams MOLD. Third strike, your out! I should have high-tailed it back to my van and drove away, instead I walked inside expecting to smell mildew and mold. For a flash of a moment I did smell something, and then it stopped. That was weird. Then nothing. I smelled nothing. This gave me great amount of hope. I liked the landlady. She also didn't stink. She was an organic gardener.

Fifteen minutes later my head did a little spin and stopped. That was weird. Then my lungs started feeling heavy, but it was minor. I stalled, buying time to stay in the space and continued to breathe deeply. The spin and lung issue was a little perplexing. Did the former tenants have cats? There are two heaters in this tiny space, both on full blast. The place is hot. Is that what caused my reaction or is the heat camouflaging the smell.

As I inspected the place, I'm finding it unreasonably dirty with dead bugs in the window sills and soap scum in the shower. Old, used soap is left in the dispenser. Gross. I justified all this with no one is as clean as I am and instead of registering this as a concern I wondered if I'm just a weirdo and need to be reasonable. I'm not looking for perfection, just safety. I took an application and the landlady told me to get it back to her by the weekend as that's when she'd be making her choice. This house was being rented month to month (so rare) and the landlady wasn't charging for the application nor credit check (so rare). It didn't cost anything to take the application or even submit it. Still my instincts are screaming at me. The head spin and lung reaction was a little unnerving, but it was minor and went away immediately. What am I missing? Can I do this?

I sought counseling from my two closest friends. One is a nurse. Neither are chemically sensitive. I list my concerns hoping one of them would recognize my idealistic pattern of ignoring the obvious. I even expressed the concern the landlady reminded me of the Moldy Slumlady: both are from California, about the same age, have organic gardens, and both own a house that used to be a garage without an inadequate foundation. My friends tell me to jump right in there and give it a shot. Both know I'm desperate and are trying to be supportive. Advice is free and neither of them will lose money because of my bad decisions.

So why am I ignoring the obvious?

Once I'm home I fill out the application and email it to the landlady. Why not? What do I have to lose? Yet. When the landlady started calling my references, I start praying she doesn't pick me. But I AM selected! Out of 35 applicants, the landlady wants me. I WIN! Damn...

But my instincts still are screaming at me. Do I listen?

I email the landlady asking her more specific questions:

Is there a plastic vapor barrier under the house? NO.

Were the carpets cleaned before my visit? NO.

Did she use any air fresheners before my visit?  I asked this because during my visit my head was spinning, but I smelled nothing. Did she use Febreze which would have annihilated my sense of smell? Perhaps the chemicals caused the spin? NO. She claimed she doesn't use air fresheners nor toxic cleaners.

She figured out really quickly I was chemically sensitive and did tell me there is a mill in the town. I knew that. I've been in that town many times with no reaction. I told her I was worried about the foundation and crawlspace as without a vapor barrier there would be mold issues. She claimed when they remodeled there was no mold to be found anywhere. She has asthma and is very sensitive to mold and chemicals as well. This gave me great hope. I made the assumption the carpets just needed a good cleaning. I volunteered to do it for her since I had the non-toxic shampoo. She had the carpet cleaner.

WHY am I volunteering to clean a rental that should be clean before I arrive? Why am I even considering a filthy place that screams loudly THESE PEOPLE ARE SLOBS.

This is where I should have walked away, but I'm desperate. I want it to work. My instincts are screaming at me and I'm ignoring them. I planned to go look at it one more time and then I'll decide if I want to give this woman money. For a moment I consider I should stay the night in it before I sign anything, but the carpets were never cleaned. I wouldn't last the night sleeping in the same space as filthy carpets.

I looked a second time. This time I don't smell anything. My head doesn't spin. My lungs don't even hurt or feel heavy. I check the ceiling for any leaks. I ask about the overabundance of heaters and why the house is kept so hot. She doesn't give me any reasons just how wonderfully they work. Heat would camouflage stink, but I forget that. I want so desperately for this to work. I look at the floors and walls. At one point I get on my knees down on the carpet to check a corner and when I get up I have long white fur all over my black pants. I ask the woman if the previous tenants had cats and she says they shouldn't have, but maybe they did without her knowing. I make the ignorant assumption I might be reacting to cats and if the carpets are cleaned, that might do the trick. I'm being hopeful and idealistic, but I need this to work.

I sign over an enormous amount of money to cover security deposit and rent and she hands me the keys along with the carpet shampooer. I vacuum and clean the carpets. Immediately I feel sick and my head starts spinning. The water the carpet cleaner is sucking up is nearly black with dirt. So gross. How can people live in such filthy? Granted, on the surface the place looks clean, just don't look too closely. The longer I'm in the house, the sicker I get. I'm tempted to rip up a corner of the carpet to see what's under. At one point I leave to go out to my van, come back in and I can smell the musty stink in the air. Is it mold? Did the moisture from the carpet cleaner incite the mold spores in the air? The electric heaters would have dried the inside of the house out. By the time I leave I am so sick my whole body is hurting, but I think I just need to get away. At this point I'm STILL hopeful!

I have yet to sign up for electricity, garbage, and internet. Internet is a one year commitment. Is it mold? Is it the carpet? Is it the pet dirt? All these things are on my NO WAY list, so why did I even consider them for a second? I kept thinking if I can fix whatever problem, I'd be fine. That's what I did with my house. I fixed it and it's safe. But with a rental, I forget I don't have the luxury of making changes. It's not my house. The landlady is adamant there is no mold so she's not going to let me fix something that isn't there. I'm feeling worse with every passing minute. By the time I get home I'm feeling the full effects of some kind of exposure.

I call the landlady when I get home and tell her I can't move in. I consider I should wait a week and go back, but then I would lose two months rent instead of one. She tells me it might be the mill as it causes people to get sick. I tell her it's mold. She tells me it isn't. I keep wondering why Californians don't think a vapor barrier under a house is necessary. She thinks it might be the carpet, maybe residue from past cleanings. I doubt it. I saw the dirt that came up. I doubt if those carpets had ever been cleaned. I wonder why the HELL I cleaned them and she didn't? I give her my 30 day notice according to the rental agreement I signed less than five hours ago (how ridiculous). She tells me to sleep on it and decide in the morning. She wants me to be the tenant. Even though we are talking on the phone I can hear the dollar signs cha-changing in her eyes. I'm the winner after all.

All night I can't breathe, my body itches and burns, my head pounds and I feel sick to my stomach. This isn't cats. I haven't had a reaction like this for a long time. Even the house of the Moldy Slumlady didn't affect me like this. Anytime I start to doze off I wake up gasping for air. The landlady didn't realize "sleeping on it" would only make me feel worse. By the morning my decision is clear and I give an official notice. I lose $700 in less than 12 hours. She said she will return my security deposit. She claims she has to go through the application process again. I tell her she doesn't if she had 35 applicants. This is how she justifies keeping money she doesn't deserve. This is my reward for being the winning candidate, the responsible one, and my reward for ignoring my instincts. Lucky me.

No more rentals for me. Not only should I not be wandering into strange, toxic homes, but I don't even have the sense to trust my instincts. I'm an idiot and it's too expensive to keep trying. At this point I'm convinced I'll never be able to find a place to rent that's reasonably priced unless I want to be in a slum, and I can't afford to buy a new home in a nice neighborhood. Cheap rent or cheap mortgage and I'd be stuck once again in a trailer-trash community where all the poor people and their low-class barking dogs congregate. Whatever move I make, rent or buy, I can't imagine it'll be an improvement. I might as well stay right where I am. At least it's safe, that's if I can manage the growing depression due to my circumstances. I am a prisoner.

I wish I could find an advocate. Someone who understands chemical sensitivity who would keep my instincts in check and go to bat for me. Someone to scream at me, Look at what you are saying, IDIOT, this isn't right for you! If I end up in the hospital unconscious, I'd need someone like this. A body guard to stand over my helpless body and scream at doctors and nurses, Keep those nasty chemicals and drugs away from her! Are you wearing perfume, you ignorant fool, stand back! I think anyone who is chemically sensitive needs an advocate. I'd be a good advocate for a chemically-sensitive person. If I knew anyone in my area, I'd volunteer for them.

Unfortunately, I am alone. Only the stupid move to Rathole and get stuck here.