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It’s Easy To Get Out Of A Funk When You’re Sober
Or is it?
Mold grows in our apartment every winter. For at least four months out of the year, I fight to keep us free of it and I lose. This time around, it began to creep into my bedroom ceiling. I can feel the effects when I wake up.
I haven’t slept well for months, and I’m not happy about it. No one should have to face the wrath of a sleep-deprived middle-aged woman. I’d rather be that cat playing Nintendo than face one more day when I have to drag myself out of bed.
I live in Eugene, Oregon, with my two kids and three cats. Now that the mold is here to stay, we get sicker for longer. Mold grows everywhere, but it’s preventable inside. If only the property management company maintained our structure with remediation. But they don’t care.
That’s what happens when you’re a single mom without a degree working only freelance jobs. I searched for a suitable alternative in our current price range and saw I’d just be swapping one moldy apartment for another. I cried harder than I had in a long time that day. I want a better life for us, but how? I don’t want to live in Oregon anymore, but I can’t yet move back to Southern California.
I’m tired of being poor.
