Hmmm… The last couple days’ Incidents keep returning to haunt. In specific, those two social-workerish women who showed up at my door and sat around quizzing me and altogether too obviously assessing my (spotlessly clean!!!) surroundings…eeeeeee!
I’ll tellya: reflecting on those two really gives me the willies.
Who reported to them that I was being abused? Or…did anyone? Was that just a standard boilerplate answer to shut up the sucker and maybe get more out of her? Or at least to stay inside her house a few more minutes and to ask more nunna-your-business questions?
It was incredibly lucky that Luz the Wonder-Cleaning Lady had been there that day. No, I don’t live in squalor. But I do a lot of loafing and leaving the newspaper laying on the sofa and not making the bed first thing in the morning…. Thanks to Luz, the Funny Farm was tidy and sparkling clean.
They must’ve been impressed, eh? :-d
Seriously: in my experience, when women are depressed or overloaded, they tend to let the housework go to Hell. Consequently, yes: a woman who is at risk may be living in a pigpen. Same is true of a woman who is neglecting herself, over her head with work or with personal problems, maxed out with bratty kids. So having the house look meticulously clean helped to send a message: nothing to see here, ladies.
Nevertheless, I do hafta say: that whole episode gives me the willies.
Who would sic those broads on me?
Why?
How? What excuse would they pump up to let them invade my privacy like that?
Frankly, I’m thinking maybe…just maybe…it’s time to get outta here. Time to find some new sylvan place to live.
Where would I go?
Ohhhhhh….where wouldn’t I go? 😀
Seriously: one can think of a whole slew of cool alternatives to lovely 110-degree crime-ridden uptown Phoenix.
The little town in Colorado whence Dear Ex-Husband emanated, for example: Grand Junction. That is a cool li’l city. Because it was developed largely by well educated mining engineers, the ambient culture is pretty sophisticated. It gets snow in the winter — some, but not a lot — and is hot enough in the summer, but overall the climate is temperate. It’s way to Hell and Gone out in the middle of nowhere, yet within striking distance of Denver.
I certainly would consider that.
In California: my friends La Bethulia and La Maya have retired to a mobile home (!) on the coast near Monterey. TO DIE FOR. I’d go there in a minute, if my son weren’t here.
Alternatively, somehow I could force myself to live in Berkeley, where my mother’s family lived.
If I would feel safe living in Arizona (probably not, under the present circumstances), there’s Payson. Prescott. Yarnell. Suburbs of Tucson. Nogales. Fountain Hills. One could go on and on, actually: this state is a gold mine of cool places to settle.
Well. If 110 degrees in the shade is “cool.” 😀
I don’t know. It really was a creepy episode. And if I had any sense at all, I’d be looking seriously at gettin’ on the road.
But instead of sense, I have lazy.
Nay, verily! I do not WANT to get off my duff and move. Who, me? Overcome inertia? Are you kidding???