Monday, January 10, 2011

Murphy Was An Optimist!

The past two days have had wonderful weather, but try as hard as I could, I couldn't find anyone to help me face that house trailer again. By Wednesday we should be back to the slight chances of snow again. Summer cannot come fast enough for me. I am wishing my life away trying to get into that house and get the roof on the barn.

This is so strange. The little one could do when the weather is nice, is impossible to do because you can't find the help. I've often wondered how this world is going to be if the recession deepens and people have the choice of either helping one another, or turning against one another in a survival mode. It's a terrifying proposition.

On Saturday and Sunday afternoon I was plagued with violent migraines, so bad I had to go to bed and though I slept from 4pm through the night Saturday night on Sunday night sleep wouldn't come and I stressed throughout the night. By early morning I felt like I had been beaten within an inch of my life.

I can't shake this sadness and feeling of hopelessness. There are times when I just can't believe that this is happening, times when I don't understand how it could be allowed, times when I try to deny it. Months ago I could grasp a little hope, a little optimism, a belief that being left homeless can't be a permanent situation. But today I know different.

Robert Huckins is yet again scheduled to pay me $450 on or before the 10th, today. But when you are homeless, trying to finance a home, those payments are starting to add insult to injury. Why won't ANYONE tell me what he did with so much money. Not only our building fund, but the enormous amount he stole from so many individuals, not for profits, and government offices?

These 13 degree nights are hard. Hard on me emotionally, physically and spiritually. Without the Lord I know I couldn't handle this.

Still, if it was possible to bribe God to take me home, now, I'd probably rob a bank to pay the money.

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them. ~Henry David Thoreau