Since September 2011 I knew I was going to lose my house. The bank gave me a long time. Why, I can’t say for sure. I told them about my declining health, my at-that-time new claim for Social Security disability (declined), and the marketing skills I hoped would help me sell my house.
I asked for more time. The bank never said yes; each month I expected an eviction notice. Yet two years passed before the final foreclosure proceedings, and three months more until my deadline to get out.
I failed to accomplish anything life-changing in that time. I tried to develop my psychic reading business, but it remained moribund, in large part because my health challenges prevented me from being available for calls enough of the time. I had abandoned my training and consulting business a few years earlier when it became clear I could no longer make appointments, because too often I felt too poorly to keep them when the time came. I had loved helping not-for-profit organizations overcome their fears about fundraising, learn to effectively raise money from individuals, and begin to think strategically about marketing and publicity.
So here I was, at a point I never thought I’d see in this lifetime: Living in my car.