Sunday, March 30, 2025

 07:45

     Yesterday, after dinner, I waited, in line, to enter the homeless shelter.  I entered, when they opened the gate.  I set my stuff down, on a table, to reserve the space, for myself.  I sleep sitting up.  I sat there, for a while.  It was still early, when I went to the bathroom, and, to smoke a cigarette.  I'd left my stuff, on the table, to reserve it.  The attack on me, personal, launched a group of terrorists, on dirty systems, onto me.  I waited outside, in the courtyard, for a while.

     When I went back inside, my stuff was on the table.  People were sitting, at that table, again.  My blanket, that had been on top of everything, was gone.  I went outside, and, told security.

     I'm devastated.  It was the big, warm blanket that I bought, at Fred Meyer, before Christmas.  My other blanket was in my backpack, when it was stolen.  It was big enough to throw over my shoulders, and, was warm, and, snuggly.  I cried, all night.  The attack was painful.

     On March 27, my first night at the shelter, I laid it on the floor.  When I did, I heard quiet chatter, "That's the blanket I want you to steal...Not tonight..."

     Today, the attack is so bad, over-loafed, dirty, painful, crippling, that I don't know when I can go pick up the money transfer.

15:50

     This afternoon, I went back to the PLS store.  They told me that there's money transfer, for me.  I don'y think that they searched their computer databases.  I'm not sure, why.