Once upon a time, in a strange land far, far away, also known as Oklahoma, a young lady returned home from a long voyage abroad only to find that her homeland had been ravaged by a severe drought as well as high rates of unemployment. Unfortunately in this case, the young lady was (and as a matter of fact, still is) me, and one of those affected by the unemployment was my mother.
Now my mother, who is a psychologist, was looking for a job either teaching or practicing psychology. However, the giant suburb of a city we were living in did not have many opportunities for that sort of job, so my mother looked elsewhere, which was fine with my dad since his job is done mainly over ye olde internet. Thus, my parents turned their eyes and search engines elsewhere, and discovered that the Dallas/Fort Worth area had lower rates of unemployment, an abundance of community colleges looking for psychology teachers, and a direct flight to where my dad works.
Alas, just as my parents’ idea of relocating was merely beginning to be formed, we received the most dreadful news: our landlady wanted her house back. And how much time, you might wonder, did we have to find a new place to live? A mere thirty days. Thus, in a mad rush, our searching began.
Once, twice, thrice we ventured in a southerly direction, spending afternoons searching for houses, but our searches were not fruitful, and were dreadfully exhausting. The heat was especially trying the day we spent an hour or so waiting in the lawn of a house for the realtor to appear. When she did arrive, it took some small effort to see past her loquaciousness. Once we did, however, we discovered an invaluable sagacity acquired from many years of experience. In other words, she talked a lot, but she was really smart. This realtor would come to be an incredible aide in finding, and moving into, the proper house.
One particular day, we looked at a rent house whose crooked and sagging floors made us dizzy, and whose rooms reeked of mold and dog pee. After a brief conference, we decided we could never live there. Later that same day, we visited a house that stood in stark contrast to that terrible rent house. Being only eight years since its completion, it was newer than any house we had ever lived in. The outside was pretty but somewhat plain. Upon entering, however, the eye was met with a glorious high ceiling, and beautiful arches stretching throughout the walkway, giving the house a certain elegance, and above all, character. A formal den surrounded by columns was on the left, while a wide staircase on the right swept upward towards the bedrooms. Farther down, a modern kitchen opened up to the rest of the house, and just above the counters were two glass block windows. Another plus to the house was its proximity to a large park covered in trails. This was ideal for my parents since they are avid joggers, and for me, since I enjoy bicycling.
However, our time was running up. We only had a week or so left, and the purchase of a home takes time. Once our offer on the house was under way, we knew we would have one or two weeks of time after our landlady wanted us out of the rent house where we currently lived and before we could move into the new house. So, we planned to stay with relatives. After frantically moving all our possessions (except for what we could fit into a few suitcases) into storage, we stayed with my mom’s brother while he was on vacation. It was almost like being on vacation ourselves, except for the fact that the landlady threatened to keep the deposit for dishonest reasons, and we spent part of the time conferring with a lawyer over the matter. Later, when my uncle’s family came back from vacation, we went down to Texas to spend the rest of our “homeless time” with my dad’s sister. Much of that time was very enjoyable as well, what with playing cards in the swimming pool, and other such activities. However, some of that time was spent conferring with the person putting the flooring in the new house, who kept getting the color wrong, or with the person from the mortgage company, who kept needing more paperwork.
Finally, we left for the closing on the house. In the middle of the long drive there, the mortgage company called and said they couldn’t close that day, and had to put off the closing indefinitely. We were very frustrated, but we ended up going anyway to stay in a hotel and try to get things settled. Up until that point, being without a home had never been more than a nuisance to me. I never lacked for anything; I always knew I would have a place to sleep and food to eat and every worldly necessity, even if I didn’t know where I would be that night. But after the mortgage company messed up the paperwork and postponed the closing, I felt a taste of the insecurity. Walking down the sidewalk in the 115 degree heat, getting tired and wishing I could go home, and then realizing I didn’t have a home to go to, was frustrating. But I knew I was blessed to have a roof over my head each night, wherever it might be.
The day came for my younger sister and I to move into our college dorms, and we still didn’t own the house. But we had thought ahead. Everything we would need for our dorms was packed away in a storage room closer to our schools. So my family temporarily relocated to a hotel near our schools for a few days while we got moved in. And let me tell you, it was a relief to have a consistent place to sleep.
Now, several weeks after school has started, my parents finally own the lovely new home. I have been there once since they moved in; it was the weekend the truck came with all our things from storage. I think I’m going to enjoy my weekends there, and I can’t wait to explore the lovely Dallas/Fort Worth area. But the moral of this tale is: homelessness stinks, even without poverty. I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to be affected by both. So next time you see a homeless person, try to imagine yourself in their place.
And also, if you were wondering about the title of this story, it is a family inside joke that refers to the name of the company that messed up our paperwork. You can try and guess what it is if you want, but the name of the company isn't really important. What is, is realizing that when a company gets so big that bureaucracy ties the hands of the lower level people and keeps them from actually helping customers, that company is too big to be effective.
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