The Bad Mom

Couch surfing can leave you sleeping in some interesting places. From my sister’s garage to the coop of a feather farm and I can’t really talk about the week we slept under the stars guarding marijuana plants armed with riffles and a diaper bag. Some places we stayed at had guestrooms with cable and a housekeeper. For the most part we were welcomed with open arms of love and support except when we encountered Helen.

It just wouldn’t be an eviction without a trip to the emergency room…..

I returned from a walk to find a note taped to my door that read:

Due to the high demand of freshman, we are converting the fifth floor to freshman only with furnished units. According to our records you are not a freshman and will need to relocate by Friday.

Friday? That’s in three days, I can’t move in three days!

I marched to the student housing office, baby in one hand and my contract in the other.

“I’ can’t move in three days!” I said shoving the letter at the student behind the counter. “Let me talk to someone in charge.”

A woman came out and said, “I’m sorry but it was clearly stated in your contract..”

“Clearly you are mistaken,” I say waving the contract, “nowhere does it say such, otherwise I would have never moved in just to have to move out in two months.” The woman read my contract and said, “I suppose it’s our fault, however you still have to move by Friday, the furniture people are coming Monday.”

“So where will you relocate me then?”

“Well there’s a waiting list for housing, so you’re looking at spring.”

“Fuck the waiting list, let’s talk women to women here, I HAVE A BABY! I can’t just run home to mommy and daddy, I’m gonna end up in a woman’s shelter. You gotta give me a break!”

I realized I was wasting my breath with this woman and went to talk to student legal services.

They were no help, as they informed me that student housing somehow doesn’t apply to the law. Consequently I did run home to mommy and luckily she’s here to take me and the baby in to her studio apartment. I don’t know what I’d do without her. So where does the ER come into the story? I called my ex-husband and bribed him to help me move. As we were carrying my mattress through mom’s front door it hit the ceiling light fixture, Dave looked up and a glass shard slit his nose open. I drove him to ER where he received seven stitches. It could have been worse, it could have been me.