“You’re always trying to save the world, Emma…but you can’t even save yourself.”  – His words echo in my mind.  An ex… a past… an abuser… a lover… a man as broken as I was back before we realized either of us had been broken…back when we were too busy living and running from what happened in our yesterdays, borrowing time from tomorrow…

It’s true.  He was right.

I’m delivering newspapers at night these days.  It’s all I really am now…just a newspaper delivery girl for the local Herald, pollinating Herald boxes in the middle of the night like a bee, attempting to limit the amount of chaos I stir up as I get through each day, dependent on distraction.  In the back of my car I have a bunch of toiletries and old clothes, some blankets and other goods to hand out to my homeless peeps I meet along the way.  Someday I’ll find a way to just live paying it forward…right now I’m just Emma without her ambulance, doing my best to encourage people as I go along.

I spoke to a homeless girl that said there is an entire population of women that walk by her and call her a slut and a whore, simply because they can tell she is homeless and they assume all females out here are prostitutes by choice…  This particular woman was fleeing an abusive man.  I understand her.

My heart sinks when I hear things like this.  I wonder what kind of woman could look at another who was in need of kindness and treat her like that?  I imagine their husbands are first in line to receive services.  Our world is so backwards and upside down…I’m such a country mouse…I don’t want to be in the city for much longer.  What I see makes me sad, and I can’t quite shake it.  I ended up homeless…but I was safer in my car than in my home…I wonder how many people judged me thinking they knew what was going on?     

One of my favorite parts of working on the ambulance was getting to hand out blankets to the homeless when the nights turned cold.  It’s ironic…I never used to watch the news because for so many years of my life I was living it on an ambulance or in fight magazines.  Now I’m delivering it.  I try not to read the headlines anymore…I get enough nightmares as it is, and I’m beginning to hear my ex husband every night as I’m driving from stop to stop, looking for other ghosts out there that may need encouragement and perhaps a tooth brush.  “You are always trying to save the world, but you can’t even save yourself.”  But meanwhile, I’m doing my best, and the back of my car is filled with backpacks, extra clothes, deodorants and toothpaste and brushes, as well as blankets that I can hand out while I’m just me out being me.  I love my homeless peeps. I get having nothing.  I love the people I meet.  I love what they teach me.  And I don’t have much I can offer anymore, lost most of it in transition, but I do my best to be a lil light….cause people have been light to me when all I saw was dark.  YOU HAVE TO DO YOUR BEST TO SAVE YOUR ENVIRONMENT, IF YOUR ENVIRONMENT ISN’T CONDUCIVE TO WELL BEING…I just try to make it better as I can cause I can’t stand what happens behind closed doors and THAT is what kills me.  And nothing will change if nobody changes it.

Lights and sirens have been following me a lot in the recent past…I seem to get pulled over a lot at night with this job, though you do end up doing U-turns and making the streets yours…but Seattle PD and I have been getting along well.  Here’s a clip of me getting pulled over last week…three cops showed up (must have been bored) but they were all enamored with my cat, Simeon, who was equally enamored by them…lol.  He delivers papers with me some nights.  My Indiana Jones cat 🙂  (forgive the fluster in my voice…I was trying to speak to both the cop, and the camera at the same time…it was a tad awkward 🙂


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