I hadn't seen anyone associated with the school since the vice-principal dropped me off at the apartment Saturday night. No attempts to check up on me. No direction. Nothing. Sometimes independence is overrated.
Yesterday, at the regional orientation, all I could do was lament my living situation. My ATM card still won't work. I'm mooching money off friends. I haven't been able to contact my parents. I have my period. I'm emotional. Internally, I'm a mess.
So today, I ventured into the great industrial park unknown in order to find my school. Google maps let me down. I walked for a half hour in the wrong direction. A kind little old man told me to go back to where I came from. Boo. Another half hour and I made it to the school. A secretary led me to an administrative room where the principal and his minions were gathered. First question: how is your housing? I grimaced. You don't like it here? Tears started to flow. What's wrong? I back out into the hallway, not wanting everyone to see me sob. Everyone follows me. Me against 9 seemingly concerned faces. I explain about the mentally unstable, stinky man living in my apartment. I try to say how dirty it is. The nine faces start talking among themselves.
Oh that's right, the homeless man lives there!
What, he's still there? I forgot all about him.
He was supposed to move out last December.
Ever since he attacked that teacher....
He might be crazy, but he's harmless.
I don't think it's our job to kick him out, let the police do it.
She has a key to her room, doesn't she. A key is all she needs.
It's not our problem.
It can't be that bad. She's too picky.
Somehow I agreed to return tomorrow morning at 9. Tomorrow will be a better day.
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