The other day, I was being lazy. I wasn't tired, wasn't feeling bad or anything -- I just didn't want to do anything. I spent most of the day sprawled out and reading. It took me most of the day to decide to put real clothing on.
So, it was one of those lazy days.
It was dark before I decided that maybe I ought to do the dishes and take the garbage out. The kitchen at my apartment gets REAL scary if the dishes don't get done for awhile. And the garbage is pretty much a daily thing too. And I don't mind cleaning the kitchen NEARLY as much as my room-mates mind it, so that's my task. Nobody complains (or, to my knowledge, notices) if I don't bother for a day or two, but it gives me something to do, and I feel kinda weird otherwise. So, around ten or so at night, I lazily put on my coat to take the garbage out.
...And it occurred to me to reach into my coat pocket. Sometimes I keep old receipts and crap in there and I can throw them out while I'm at the dumpster.
I pulled out eight dollars. Well, cool. I had eight dollars saved for bus money to my doctor's appointment. I dug deeper.
I pulled out some change. And... another six dollars.
I have NO idea where that six dollars came from. I only had eight dollars. And a little bit of change. That was absolutely IT. There's noplace I COULD have gotten another six dollars from. Finding that six dollars in my coat pocket was like going to sleep one night with an absolutely bare refrigerator, and waking up to find a steaming plate of pancakes and bacon, coffee, and maple syrup. And no sign that anybody's been around.
"Did YOU put this here?" I asked Neil incredulously. But I knew he hadn't. Neil didn't have an extra six dollars any more than I had it.
He shook his head with a quiet sort of smile. He said something to the effect of, "when one is in need, the universe will provide."
I said: "I know. But I thought I'd ask anyway, because I'd still like to say thank you."
The universe DOES provide, of course. Once, I only had one tank top, and one sweatshirt, and I NEEDED another shirt. And as I was walking down the street, I found a nice grey t'shirt -- wet, but in perfect condition. Once, Neil was running low on cigarettes and had no money, and some dude (a REALLY annoying dude, but whatever) wandered up and bought him a pack of Camels (with the unfortunate condition that the two of us sit and listen to his stupid, annoying, mostly-bullshit life story for two hours, but still...). Once... Yeah. When one is in need, the universe comes through. Every time. No fail. The trick is to actually realize when you're in need. The universe is pretty good at gauging the situation.
Happily clutching my six dollars inside my pocket, I brought the garbage outside to the dumpsters. The sky was beautifully clear and I could see hundreds of stars. Yet, it was pretty warm out. Not WARM-warm, but much warmer than one would expect on a very clear night in November. When I got back to my apartment, I poked at Neil: "Will you go out on a date with me? Just outside for a couple of minutes?"
Neil readily agreed.
"I just wanted to show you the stars," I said. "And... I wanted to kiss you under them." Neil smiled. And looked up at the stars, up over and beyond my head. And got a really startled look on his face.
"Whoa," he said.
I turned to look. And, for just a second, I thought I saw lightning. But... no, it wasn't lightning... Because it happened again, and there was no lightning bolt. It looked like lightning, kind of, except it was perfectly clear... Kind of... There were these cloudy whitish streaks I hadn't noticed at first... But they still didn't look like clouds.
"Is that... are those the Lights?" I asked.
"That," said Neil, sounding kind of awed and kind of grand at the same moment, "is the aurora borealis."
"Damn! Cool!"
We kissed in the starlight under the Northern Lights.
And it occurred to me that even laziness has its meaning. Had I taken the garbage out any earlier, I wouldn't have seen all the stars, and hence wouldn't have invited Neil outside for a "date." And then none of us would have seen the Lights.
I think the universe supposed we needed that.
Yesterday morning, Neil looked in his wallet as we were heading to Olympia for my doctor's appointment. And found five dollars.
Neil had given me his very last money -- ninety-five cents in change -- a week or two earlier.
We looked at each other. I'm pretty sure my eyes were glowing. Neil's were, a little bit. He never really looks surprised when things like that happen (it's pretty damned difficult to really surprise Neil, although not impossible), but he looked pleased. Money from la ciel means laundry. And -- what the hell -- a couple of cheeseburgers from McDonald's in Olympia, since, otherwise, we wouldn't have eaten all day.
Those cheeseburgers were astonishingly good. Good enough, in fact, so that even Neil actually did look pretty surprised.
A little while ago, this woman called me from some collections agency in Olympia. She was trying to tell me I owe four hundred dollars for some medical bill I didn't know about.
"Okay, well, do you have my address?" I asked.
"I have..." And she gave me the address.
"Do you have the apartment number?"
"No."
"Well, mail doesn't get to me unless you put down the apartment number." I gave her the apartment number. "So, please use that when you send me whatever bill this is."
"Okay. Now, while you're on the telephone, why don't we set up a payment plan for you to get this paid off?"
Uh...
"Well, I can't really do that right now," I told her. "I don't have any money. I'm unemployed."
"Do you have unemployment benefits?" she asked.
"No, ma'am, I do not," I said.
"You have no income at all?"
"No, ma'am, I do not."
"How do you buy your groceries?" she asked.
"Well, I don't think that's any of your business," I said. What the hell? Like I'm going to somehow magically change my hundred dollars in food stamps into dollars, and send it to this lady in lieu of eating?
Dude, she wants me to give up GROCERIES in order to pay off a stupid medical bill I didn't even KNOW about? A bill that never got SENT to me, because THEY didn't even use the right address?
The woman got snippy with me when I told her that my groceries were none of her business.
"Oh you DON'T, don't you?"
"No, ma'am, I don't."
"Well!"
She couldn't think of anything to say. There was an uncomfortable silence on the phone. I let it last as long as I could stand it. It's nice having the ability to fluster a freaking collections agent into silence. REAL nice. I remained polite the entire time. I didn't get bitchy with her at all. Just told her the truth: it wasn't any of her business.
"So. You may set up a plan if that's what you'd like to do, but I don't have any money, so I don't have anything to send you. I'll do what I can, and that's all I can promise."
The woman was still silent. I could hear her fury at me right through the phone. How DARE I tell her, after all, that something wasn't her business? She makes a living intimidating people, for gahd's sake; how DARE I not be intimidated? How DARE I talk to her without shame? Or at least a little bit of humility...?
"So," I finished, "thank you for calling. Send those papers out to me, and I will do what I can."
I hung up. I could almost hear her breathing through a widely opened mouth.
My room-mates were looking at me in complete astonishment. You'd have thought I'd just body-slammed a six-foot-four bodybuilder in the middle of the living room, and hadn't even broken a sweat. Ah, whatever. I was a shy kid. I spent the entirety of my childhood feeling too terrified of people to speak to most of them. I'm tired of that gig. I'm not going to be all deferential to somebody just because THEY think I should be. I'm a big girl now. And I say what I want to say. And now, most of the fear is gone. Or insignificant.
I thought my room-mates were going to applaud me for a moment.
Heh.
A couple of minutes after I got off the phone, I started feeling really angry. What a stupid cuntrag! What a freaking horrible woman! What right had she to ask about my groceries? She didn't even apologize for not sending me any kind of bill or anything. I KNOW that mail gets returned to its sender if he or she forgets the apartment number. And so, either that agency had gotten returned mail, or they hadn't sent me anything to begin with. And then she wanted to inquire about my income? Stupid bitch.
But...
The anger is gone now, at least for the most part.
Because I know that the universe takes care of people like that, just as the universe takes care of me. People like that woman spend their lives unhappy. They spend their paychecks on counseling services and anti-depressants. Or they just speed around in aimless rage all the time, destroying their circulatory systems, their social circles, and their marriages. The stress of being a bitch all the time really takes its toll on one's health. And, for some weird reason, on the health of one's vehicle. The cars of stressy, bitchy people tend to have horrible brakes and all kinds of other broken parts. Probably this woman's going to hit a tree on the way back to her empty house.
I don't need to get angry and WISH such things on this woman. As a matter of fact, I don't wish ANY of that upon her. I wish for her only what she's got coming to her. I trust that the universe will know.
It remains a good day.
~Helena*