Chemical dependency · Christianity · Counseling

Was Counseling Helpful? Working In Chemical Dependency – Part 2

At times I wonder how my old clients are doing: are they still clean and sober?  Have they gone back to using drugs or alcohol, and what have they learned in their lives?  How many may have “found God”, and come to the Lord?

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In treatment, they were asked to learn about the progression of their “disease”, and spend time looking at their triggers, past history and learn to identify what caused some to use drugs and “self-medicate” to cope with their suffering.  Many grew up in families where drugs and alcohol were used, and many grew up where families were non-supportive of their dreams in life… I can relate to that issue, not being supported by family.  

It does cause a great amount of pain, to not have good family relationships, to not feel cared about by your siblings and parents, just a taker-upper of space, a “useless eater”, a person that goes unknown, and needs food, clothes and a place to stay for the night.

The inadequacy of drug treatment always bothered me.  We had plenty of people seeking treatment, often mandatory drug treatment ordered by a judge, who knew nothing about what “treatment” was being offered.

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The counselors were not always the best people to work with and many had drug and alcohol issues they were recovering from, themselves.  They had been clean and sober for a required time but often were not old enough to have really made progress in their own drug treatment to offer someone else who paid for services, or who had their drug treatment paid for by “the system” somehow.  Many counselors were just not bright enough to really understand what clients were going through, being ordered into treatment, but yet not wanting the treatment.  They wanted to stay out of jail, but often would cheat the system, often covering up for having used by coming up with an excuse for why they were absent, or rushing out of the building saying they forgot they were to stay to get urine tested.

It is hard to keep track of all the clients we treated.  So many needed more quality time with a trained and mature counselor than what they got.  The counselors I worked with were very unfriendly and seemed to stick together in clicks, never being supportive in making time to discuss clients or ask how the other counselors were doing.  It seemed they did not care; it seemed like they were busy making themselves important to their clients and caring more about the status they were held in by clients and managers, but were not the real people I would expect to work with in a treatment facility.

When I had to go into treatment in my Master’s degree program, I was required to spend at least 40 hours receiving counseling by a licensed therapist so that I would know what it was like to be in treatment.  It was to better serve my clients.  I would have a better understanding about what that therapeutic relationship was like and what questions it brought to me about what my goals would be, how I would work with another person, how I would know when my goals were met, and what I wanted in my therapy treatment.  It brought up lots of questions in the relationship alone for me, and so I know that when a client has a counselor, there should be a special relationship built, and that takes time, trust and learning on both sides.  How well the counselors were growing in their own personal growth was unknown.  How many stayed stuck in their sophomoric ways?  How many cared enough to really be true to the growth that they had, needed or wanted?

I have a lot of things to say in my reflections about the work I have done.  I feel I did not do well for clients, in that I did not have a Christian perspective then, at least for the majority of the time I spent working in mental health and drug treatment.  I feel a loss of what could have been done for my clients, had I known Christ.

Related:  Working In Chemical Dependency: Unprofessional Coworkers – Part 1

Christ-centered life · Christianity · Owning a business

Know The Way: Christ-Centered Life Is Best

Screenshot 2017-10-01 at 4.46.14 PMI’m dissatisfied with the way my life has been going.  In a way I can understand how I had so many problems in life because I wasn’t raised as a Christian and so invited Satan in.  He seeks to kill, steal and destroy, according to John 10:10.  

I found my life through and in Jesus; he gives life:

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. ~ John 10:10 KJV

My earlier adult life consisted of running after the world; the worldly success I was raised to go for, the higher college degrees, good money and starting a family.  That was the training I got as a child.  That was about it, except doing Saturday chores.  Being seen and not heard was another things my parents taught, as well as helping to cook dinner, set the table and load the dishwasher.  I had a good life as far as that went but when I became an adult I lacked the wisdom to find my own calling.  I seemed to blow in the wind, not knowing where my strengths were, and what I would enjoy doing in my life as far as a vocation.

Making choices for myself was never allowed and I think I ran into a lot of problems by giving in to the kinds of people I should have stayed away from.  Two short, failed marriages and one child later, I lost everything and wound up homeless.  It’s a long story but I had harmed myself and my child I brought into the world.  She isn’t in my life at this point and I used to pray a lot for her out of fear of her father hurting her physically, like he did me.  I was terrified, but that’s not the subject I want to write about today.

I wanted a company I could call my own.  Something that pleased me to do; to exercise my talent in ways I could enjoy.  Several times in life I played with the idea of owning a media company, a radio station and buying a tower somewhere out by Cleveland, Ohio where they were having a sale on FM radio bands you could buy and after having worked briefly at a radio station out in Missouri, I found I had a predisposition for media.  

I earned a degree in journalism back in 1999 while living in Sacramento, California, but I never got into the field.  I didn’t want to write those stories about the local town hall meetings and boring stuff like that.  I wanted to write a book and maybe be like my dad who wrote book reviews for the local paper where I grew up, near Santa Rose, for the Press Democrat.   Reading and writing were two strengths I have always had since I liked to be alone, reading in my room as a child.  Then I began to write journals, and later while in college I joined the Journalism Club at California State University, Sacramento, and also for the Napa Valley College school paper before that where I earned two Associate’s degrees, one in Fine Arts and the other in Education.  They were my first degrees and I was proud to have them.  Then I earned my Journalism degree, and learned to write short news stories at a radio station in Vallejo as an intern for an older news guy.  I forget his name it’s been so long ago.

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During my years in California I fought an ongoing child custody battle for the custody of my daughter and I learned a thing or two about family law and how it operates in California.  I did my own paperwork and went to court without a lawyer most times because I could not afford an attorney.  So I became active in several local groups that concerned themselves with helping people going to court for family law in particular.  One meeting I attended took place in San Jose, where we learned the laws of the State of California and learned about filing petitions and representing ourselves in court.  Then I became aware of a Sacramento parenting group for mothers and learned from what they were doing.  I also volunteered for a nonprofit that called on judges to be bound by the law, in finding that judges were ruling unfairly in their court rulings.  There was an attorney who still practices law in southern California.  I did internet radio for this group where I used my journalism training as a radio talk show host.  You probably never heard of it, though, but it gave me a lot of training and insight into running a radio show.

This is where I got the idea of owning an FM radio tower, much like the one in Missouri, where the radio talk show hosts sold natural health supplements and products in a big warehouse on their property, and had an attorney named Linda Kennedy, help them with their legal questions, since law was often a subject the radio show hosts talked about.  They were big, well-known radio broadcasters where I understand the lady ran for President, and her husband left her for other things, since they did not continue to see the radio programming in the same light.  They split having different ideas about which way the company should go, I believe.

This has all given me the background to have some insight into what happens when you don’t have the kind of people you need involved in a company you start.  That is why I want to start with a sole-proprietorship but make media a part of my company.  I like radio and I like having a say in what society thinks.  

In Ohio while I dreamed about having an FM radio station and talking at night about all the issues that interested me, I began to go to a nonprofit training site in Cleveland. They offered several free classes in how to start your own nonprofit, and I attended every one. Then I attended the University of Akron and took several classes on nonprofit management, and also urban planning.  I wanted to have some say in what I felt was important to communities, with families being held together keeping children safe, upholding the laws of our country, even taking pre-law classes and joining other groups where people studied the law around property taxes and things like that.  I became a student in many areas of life and joined many groups along the way, but this time spent in these groups was also educating me about life.

I have many more things to say and want to write.  I wished I had completed a Ph.D., but ran out of money, but I have found that I would not have wanted to pursue being a licensed psychologist when I found God.  He seemed to draw me away from that form of study and I am glad He did.  As we know, we must get God in our lives first, then go from there, otherwise we might not know the way, and like me, just blow in the wind for many years.

Christianity · Side income

Homeless: An Upsetting Way Of Life

Screenshot 2017-10-01 at 10.48.56 AMI’m spending time here at St. Luke’s in Bellevue, Washington, around in back where they have a space called Sophia’s Day Center for homeless women.  Having coffee at a shared table with other homeless women and listening to the others talk in the room does not make for a thoughtful space for me to write.  It is a very disruptive place where the police were here after two women got into an argument about a chair and the little dog one of them had.  I came in just as a staff person told them to leave.  Then a police officer came and has now left, so this isn’t a normal environment for a person who is getting ready to go back to work should be.  Nor for someone who is getting on with her life and does not want to remain homeless, living in a van.

I’d like to do laundry today, here at Sophia’s Day Center as well as take a shower, and I’m hoping to pull this off without an argument by someone who is mentally unstable.  You get thrown out if you are perceived to argue, which is not my tendency to do.  Usually the one to be aggressive is someone being aggressive toward me, trying to invade my space and dominate me.  All these extra things to worry about does not make me relax and enjoy having time off from work.  

I go back to work tonight; my truck is already loaded with auto parts, so I just have to drive to Sunnyside and pick up milk samples, then drive to the warehouse at Richland.  The drive takes three-and-one-half hours, usually.  I think I can load up the milk samples by myself since there have been fewer containers to take from the warehouse in Sunnyside.

I’ll be driving through Snoqualmie Pass, Washington again today.  It’s a pretty drive but the road narrows and the highway lanes get a little curvy and scary to drive a big truck on.  My truck is 16 feet long and is tall, so it catches the wind and feels like it could lean and fall over if I do not slow down going around the turns.

When I get to the Richland warehouse and unload my truck with help from a guy who shows up early like I do, I’ll be loaded up with whatever has to be delivered back to Bellevue and Kent.  I will drop those off, then re-park the truck at the Ford of Bellevue parking lot, and get my own personal van, and drive away.  I’ll be done for the day at around 7:00 am tomorrow morning.

Here’s one of my first videos taken while I was driving through Snoqualmie Pass, Washington.  This is a new job that I’m doing for a few more days, hopefully, until I start my office job I should have been working, until I had to leave because I was not certified as a pharmacy assistant.  I had applied for that certification, but it had not gone through yet so I was sent home from my job.

Driving my delivery truck:  Daytime truck driving through Snoqualmie Pass, Washington

Christianity · Temporary income

Keeping Income Going

I’ve spent the past several days working a temporary job just to get income.  As you may know, I am a Christian homeless woman, living in a van now, but living in a vehicle for a total of seven months, since March 1, 2017.

I’m driving a delivery truck taking mostly auto parts from Bellevue and Kent, Washington, into Richland, Washington, five nights a week.  That’s close to 200 miles one-way, so I’ve not had a chance to blog because I sleep during my time off and don’t have time to do anything else.

Here’s a video: Driving my big truck into Bellevue

I’ve very tired, and have worked over 75 hours in the past five work days.  Tonight I have off, but Sunday night I will again drive my truck into Richland, making a stop in Sunnyside, Washington, to pick up samples of cow milk that will be tested for any bacteria which will then be delivered up to Pendleton, Oregon where they test the milk.  I drove to Pendleton one night when they needed someone to make the delivery because their regular person wasn’t available.

Here’s a short video going through a slow down on Snoqualmie Pass:  Traffic slows down through Snoqualmie Pass

I am a Christian, and I know my life is getting better, and I trust God to see me through.  


More White Woman In A Truck

My travels went through Washington state, delivering auto parts.  

My ad on Craigslist was requesting an office job that I could do for a few weeks until my other job starts that I blogged about here.  I was answered by about seven or eight people; some were weird replies, such as “ready to work?” and that was all they wrote, to long explanations about what they needed me to do, vague, not really saying what the job was about.  Just “running errands” and the red flag: depositing money into a bank account, you know, those kinds of scams out there.  Don’t do anything where they talk about a bank account, because that’s a scam, I know too well.  My other job from a scammer on Craigslist involved wanting to know my bank account information, and I reported the guy in this scam.  But my recent ad was answered by only one person who sounded normal.  I’ll call him Scott.

Since I needed money for my car payment and phone bill, I posted a short ad that I would do office work should anyone need a temporary office worker, and my ad was short:


I have over ten years of experience doing various office positions, and have a background in counseling and social work. My office skills are current and I’ve recently been working office jobs as a temporary employee.  

If you have an office type job that you need filled quickly on the East Side to help you for a short-term basis while I look for a permanent job, please contact me and I will send you my resume and/or talk with you by phone.

** I report scams, valid offers only.

I have to report that I do report scams.  Everybody should.  But my main point is that when you need a job for a short time only, post it on Craigslist, then learn the scams, what is said, how fast they pay and by what means.  Otherwise you may get into a bad place, working some hours and then not getting paid.  Anyway, this Scott, as I call him, seemed nice enough.  I will find out tomorrow whether he pays up front like he says he will, and he offered to pay me in advance because I was trying to work until my other jobs starts back up.  He felt kinda sorry for me is my guess.  He said he was a Christian and I believe that he was legit.  I never felt nervous or like he was a creepy guy.  He never made improper statements, or joked coarsely, so I believe God has ordained it to happen; he offers me a short-term job to help him and me, both.  Since he needed a driver to allow him to take care of other things, instead of doing the driving himself.

He is the owner of a delivery trucking company where he has other people working for him.  They all seem nice and they work hard.

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In his warehouse they unloaded the trucks into sorted areas of the different cities that items needed to be delivered to, then loaded them up into the trucks that were going on that route.  Mine was to go to a series of cities in Washington state, but one night he needed someone to go up to Oregon to deliver the stacks of items they need every week night during the business week, meaning every Monday through Friday nights when we worked making deliveries.  He asked me if I would deliver up to Pendleton, Oregon, to which I agreed.  It wouldn’t be so bad, I thought.  I would just take an hour longer to drive to it, then turn around and come back once I had dropped off the load of tied, Styrofoam, stacks of milk samples.  I have no idea what they wanted them for, so it was some science testing place, maybe a government oversight committee’s idea.  I don’t know.  Why would cow milk need to be tested?  Now I think it’s good to know what is in the milk that we drink, it’s just my guess what that was about.  I didn’t see any cows, so I wonder what cow milk, or even goat milk, they may have wanted samples for?

I went up there and didn’t know where to unload the milk samples.  He gave me the wrong address; it was a digit off, and my GPS was showing that I go to an electrical power company, so I didn’t know what they wanted the milk samples for.  Something weird going on, I thought, so I waited for Scott to return my call, asking him where to deliver the samples.

And I waited… and waited… two-and-a-half hours went by before he called back.  I had been lying on the front seat, curled up in a ball, asking God to please have Scott call me back, to which he did.  Scott called me right then.  So I could deliver the samples and be on my way after three hours in Pendleton, Oregon.  I went back to the warehouse to drop off the rest of the load that was in my truck; the load where I had loaded up several boxes from my start location in Bellevue, Washington.  They were heavy, and I needed the guy at the Auto show room to help me load seven of the larger, heavier boxes.

So I went back to the warehouse to drop off these boxes where they would be sorted and taken to their locations to be dropped off the following business day.  I got them out of the truck, but it was then that my cell phone service was shut off because I hadn’t paid the bill, and I didn’t have directions to take two more packages to Ellensburg, WA, to drop off at another auto repair shop.

I was panicked.  It was the middle of the night, and without phone service I would not be able to call my boss and ask him how to get to the store in Ellensburg.  I remembered Ellensburg was on the freeway home, but I didn’t know where to pick up the freeway, which direction to go, and I drove a bit, for about 30 minutes, thinking I would go west which ultimately would be the direction I go to go home, where my van was parked.

I was wrong about knowing the direction to go, and turned around to come back.  Then I couldn’t find the exact location where I had been at the warehouse, which I could get into, but the phone was locked up in the boss’s office.  I had not way to reach him, the phone was not available.  So I curled up in the truck for awhile, thinking it would be easier to find my way and an open store, after sunrise.

It was cold, and I remember thinking that I had the gas card, so could fill up once I found the right kind of gas station where I could use the gas card.  He had given it to me since I would often need gas to put in the truck, since I was traveling several hundred miles during the night.  I decided to run the engine to run the heater.

As the sun was getting ready to rise, I started out looking for anything open, and a gas station where I could ask directions would be best.  I would buy a cup of coffee, and be cheerful, knowing this night would end soon and that cup of coffee would sure help. After about 20 minutes of driving around I found an open gas station where the lady at the counter was able to point me to the direction of the freeway going to Ellensburg.  I was about an hour-and-a-half’s drive away.  I got the cup of coffee and started out again.  I needed gas, and though I knew there was a gas station in Ellensburg, I also drove through Prosser where they were having a balloon fair.  It was a blast looking at a parasailer flying above me on the freeway, then finding a group of hot air balloons which were lifting up from the ground at the Prosser Balloon Rally.  I had to get gas, so stopped at Prosser, at Love’s gas station and truck stop.

Prosser Balloon Rally – Washington. Photo: sleboeuf.  https//

lovesAt Love’s, I had to fill the tank and I was not certain that this Love’s would take the credit card.  Scott had mentioned that not all gas stations could take the car, but I did not know what that meant; either the gas stations were all Love’s, or there were certain Loves’ we could use the credit card for, or there were only certain gas station companies where we could use the corporate credit card.  Since I was not sure, I tried to get the gas prepaid so I would know I could pay for it.  I did not want to be stuck with a full tank of gas, unable to pay for it.  So the guy at the counter told me to pull the truck around to the side where the big-rigs get their gas.  At the pump, the gas kept splashing rapidly into the smaller truck tank, so only would add about five cents of gas at a time, then the gas pump would stop pumping gas.  After several tries, I had to drive the truck over to the other side again, and after going inside and out of the gas station about six times, I finally got the gas tank full and began driving again.

Photo: Love’s Travel Shop guest photo

After about an hour of driving near Yakima toward Ellensburg where I had to deliver the two items, the truck started to automatically slow down.  Lights came on on the front panel, and I lost power, so I had to drive really slow all of a sudden.  I drove about 10 minutes on the shoulder of the freeway with my flashers on.  Then I pulled over on the freeway, and stopped.  I was afraid I would damage the truck’s engine if I kept driving.  Once I found the owner’s manual, I identified the problem as the truck needed DEF fluid, and I started out on the freeway again, this time going no faster than about 15 mph, staying on the shoulder, my lights flashing.  I prayed for a patrol officer, and lo and behold, right then up ahead I saw the flashing lights of a highway patrolman stopped on the side of the freeway.  I drove my truck slowly up the grade, and was able to park behind him.  I noticed it was a K-9 unit.

1officerHe walked up to my passenger door which I opened for him, and he said “what can I do for ya?  Are you broken down?”  He had his sunglasses on and looked like a kind man.  I told him I could drive still, but very slow.  He reasoned that I should keep driving the 14 miles to Ellensburg and go to a gas station right off the freeway there, and I was able to go all the way without breaking down, completely.  He said he would watch in case I broke down.

At the gas station, I called Scott using the manager’s phone, who told me to go to the gas station down the road and use the company credit card and buy the DEF fluid.  It was my first experience with DEF fluid, not knowing what it was, and I still don’t know what it was for.

I was able to get the DEF fluid and drop off the packages at the auto repair shop, then went back on my way to go on the freeway, driving the speed limit, knowing I would get home all in one piece.  I was worried I might not know how to get to where my van was parked, at a Bellevue car dealership where I would park the truck in their parking lot for the night.  I would pick it up again the next time I had to drive it to make deliveries again.  I struggled, stopped at a storage rental company, and the guy behind the counter gave me direction.  I then had to park the truck in the back parking lot where I would leave it, get to my van, and figure out how to get to Kirkland from Bellevue.  I was lost, and drained.  It had been 20 hours since I first picked up the truck and then drove up to start my delivery job.  Wasted and exhausted doesn’t describe my state of mind.

It was a road trip I’ll never forget.

Al-Anon · Christianity

Why Has My Life Been So Hard, God?

white picket fenceI’ve had conversations with God; I’ll call them that.  More like rants about how I can’t understand how I can work all day but can’t keep a job.  What is he doing to my life?  When I went to school I was promised a house with a white picket-fence around it.  That is what my college application said; well, no, not really.  But that is what I thought.  

Why did I think that?  Wasn’t I taught that a college-education would promise me a house with a white-picket fence around it?  Now it sounds like a pipe-dream, something made up out of The Wizard Of Oz.  

A story.  A story about how a white woman in her 20’s could work on her college education, get married, and have 2.0 children.  Or something along those lines.  I was supposed to be happy and have children, that’s plural, more than one child.  I only got to have one child, and that was an unhappy one.  An unhappy daughter and her unhappy mother.  Married to an unhappy man who was a recovering alcoholic; at least that’s what he said.

7858 Burton Drive
My childhood house – Rohnert Park, CA

I grew up thinking I would have a nice life; my dad was doing well and he told us we were “an upper, middle-class family”, which was common in those days.  More common than today.  Only we weren’t, we were at the upper echelon of the middle class family life-style, having more than others but not quite rich.  We weren’t that well-off.  I know this because in the mature mind I have now, I have learned about making oneself look good on the outside, but on the inside my parents may have been struggling with debt.  Credit cards, bank loans, and that sort of thing.  I just didn’t know it when I was a child.

alcoholDad drank, so I married an alcoholic, because that’s what I learned from Al-Anon, that we marry alcoholics because “that’s the thing we know”, how to live a life of chaos, broken dreams and unhappy marriages.  Dad cheated, and my mom later divorced him, once she got the house and a few other things, I believe, and felt stable financially.  But he let her down, and I mean greatly.  She worshiped him and hung on him at every chance she got.  I believe her existence was devoted to him and his success in business.  He was in advertising and had his own ad agency in San Francisco; at least that’s what he said.  I don’t know how much I trust a man who would leave my mother in such a depressed state. She loved him, through and through, and hung on for years…  He just got worse and drank all the more.  

In Al-Anon, they call that “co-dependence”, you hang onto another person, covering up for their mistakes, accepting disaster, telling yourself you’ll be okay, and if you just love the other person enough they will get well and change.  You prove yourself, your loyalty to them I guess and that’s supposed to be the difference they need in a relationship to make a change.  You love them well, I guess.  That’s the theory I’m sure that goes on in each mother’s mind who is married to such a dysfunctional man.  Her identity was build upon his wellness, success, and how well they looked “on the outside”.  It was all fake.  They were not happy and my dad was not well.  Either was she, now that I think about it, but I knew that at the time.

childAs a small child I grew up thinking my dad was larger than life; he was always right and he was god in the family.  Until my sister came along who earned a PhD in bio-physiology, and so knew the origins of life, then she became his god, and so was like a god to the rest of us.  At least she got treated that way and was the oldest of four sisters.

It wasn’t a happy time, because I was the third child born alive, my older sibling died at childbirth, was a still-born I guess, and so I was the fourth born, but was the third born who survived.  My mom didn’t care for me much, I presume.  She must have been heartbroken that the other child died, and so I was a replacement child.  I wonder how that felt to her?  Since I don’t know her well, I just guess at stuff.

I am a hurt child, abandoned by my family, having been my dad’s favorite child, or so he told me so once when he was drunk, and he might have told the other children the same thing, now that I think about things.  He may have identified with me the most, because I liked to read and he read himself silly, what with a library that had shelves lining the walls in the living room, and in his office in their bedroom, with a walk-in closet to the side that they had built on to add more rooms to the house.  That is why I thought we were doing well, financially.  We had a big house next to all the ones in my neighborhood at the time.  We lived in a tract-housing development, called Rohnert Park, in California, that has since built up into a large tract-housing development, much bigger than when we were there.  We moved in before Rohnert Park was proclaimed a “city”.  It was named after “the Rohnert family”, is what I was told when I was a child.  

hoWe were considered well-to-do, compared to my friends, and we had horses.  We pastured them at another friend’s house.  I rode gymkhana and did barrel racing as a young teenager; I was President of the 4-H when I could talk.  I was very shy then and someone nominated me to be the 4-H leader, but then I couldn’t do it any more because I was frightened to death.  I was pushed into it, you see.  And, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, or say, or what it was about.  I was too young.  I sold sheep at the fair also while I slept in a horse stall with a friend when we rode in horse competitions at the fairs around the area.  Those were good times since they were unusual in my lifetime, very prestigious, since the other kids at my school didn’t have horses, so I was raised with many things they didn’t have.  I was grateful, but then I flopped as an adult.  I simply “couldn’t get anywhere” and I became a Christian out of desperation.

My marriages had both flopped.  I married two alcoholics, for reasons explained.  Yep, it was that easy.  You see someone and you tell yourself, “I’m going to marry that one”, but I wasn’t the one saying that. They were.  I did not want these marriages and in no way was I ready to be married and live a life of marriage.  It was a mistake in my life to have married so young in how young I was for my age; and have these men as my marriage partners, so messed up as they were and not ready to become husband’s, themselves.

identityThis is my mistake; not making decisions based upon who I was.  I let everyone tell me what I should become, and I became it.  Only I flopped since I was not to have those things; husbands, horses, swim and ballet lessons; that was not who I am, not who I was supposed to be.  I am who I am meant to be today; living in a van and shaping a life around God’s timing, and for the strengths that I have been gifted with.  Only time will tell how well I turn out.

Christianity · Job

My Travels: White Woman In A Truck

So I went on my first truck ride, making my way through the state of Washington, wondering what it was all about.

This is the truck I drove.


This is a 16-foot box truck, cab-over, I am told, by the man who owns the company.  I’ll call him Scott.

He’s a good guy, a Christian, so I could talk to him immediately about the Christian experience and why I trusted him.

I shared with him my experience writing job ads on Craigslist while I looked for work.  His was one example of the kinds of jobs I would get…

I’m an office worker, and there’s nothing like a truck-driving job delivering auto parts that I wouldn’t want more… To have sore arms and neck, a back that won’t bend and legs that hurt when I walk… yes, that’s the kind of work I would get in a hurry, wanting to make ends meet and not take additional free benefits like the food stamps I used to get.

I got food stamps when I was poor, and traveling through the states in the United States, under hardship, hurting like hell, wondering why I couldn’t find work.  I was a case-manager back in California, and I’m trying to make sense out of why my life took shape this way.  

I live in a van and I’m homeless, now for the third time.  Why am I so having a problem finding good jobs where I can support myself, and live a normal, decent life on my own, not harming anybody and just getting along?  All I want to do is lead a normal life.

Now I’m having problems with income, again, and so I have the truck-driving job where I deliver auto-parts to companies around the state of Washington, and into Oregon, where I delivered some supplies one night.  I posted an ad for “job wanted” on the East Side of Lake Washington so that I wouldn’t have to go into Seattle to find a job.  I wanted temporary, a quick job so I could wait for a job coming through and have some sort of income, while waiting.

I needed food stamps so I got the emergency food stamps while I’m waiting for a job to come through, where I applied for a job, got the paperwork done, and now have to wait for a pharmacy assistant certificate to get posted on the Washington state licensing site, here:  Pharmacy assistant certification

I’m checking the status of when they are working on September 16th, when they would have received my September 13th signed application in the mail on this page:  Day of certification processing

So, I guess I have another two weeks from today in order that they receive my application and post it on their website, as “pending”, or maybe “active”, depending on how fast they process them.

I can’t wait.  My arms are sore and I’m tired from driving all night.  This is the only job I’ll have until I get the other job working at the front desk for a pharmacy-related company in their corporate office, with a clinic next to where I sit.  A nurse sits back there and does the infusions for any patient they have, who make an appointment to receive infusion therapy.  That is where they feed medication through a tube into the person’s arm.  So that is the job I’m waiting on and then I won’t have to drive a truck making deliveries any longer.