A month and a half ago, my public storage unit was my home. I did my best to make it comfortable even though it had no toilet or bathing area. I had to be creative and I was for almost a year. I ate at soup kitchens, donated blood/plasma for money and survived the best I could with what little money I made working at Little Caesars Pizza.
When the city found out I was living in a public storage unit, I was evicted. Happily, I had been blessed 1 week before with a new job making more money. So, I lived in rental cars behind the restaurant where I worked as a server and in hotels when the tips were good. I prayed everyday just as I’ve always done and I enjoyed sitting at the bus stops with the drunks, drug heads and the mentally ill listening to their stories especially those about how they came to be who they are today. I gave them food and allowed them to come in and sleep in a closed off section of the restaurant on nights I worked alone (it was a risk). Yesterday seems so long ago.
I moved into my apartment on Christmas Eve and started yet another job with better opportunity just after the new year. I now live in the projects lol and I’m VERY happy to be here. Im passing through just as many are. I’ve lived long enough to know where you are does not define who you are. I look around and I pray we all know this. There is a indescribable beauty here. It’s not the safest place to live but it is where I am.
I’m having great fun setting up my place. To me, it’s paradise – Me’Me Shays
