HOUSING IN DISARRAY. Evilstein pushed my door at 8.30 a.m. yesterday (no need to knock; the door swings in - as I said, no lock, no bolt, no catch even) ... then he started yelling "You were meant to be at the council yesterday. You are on the line!! On the line!! Of all your stuff out!! Out!! On the street!!"
Anyway then he went. I confronted him outside and asked for this in writing. No can do (no reason; though Mother Hubbs, I think put her finger on it when she speculated that the guy cannot read. Anyway then I went to his manager's office and demanded this in writing. This they would not do. I moved my "important papers" (well some of them) to Mother Hubbs's garden shed.
Then in the afternoon I went to the council. The Vietnamese-looking lady who "assisted" me looked at me like I was a space alien. Kept telling people on the phone I was "vulnerable" and "confused-looking" ...
Well all I can do is quote two songs:
1: ".... strawberry fields ... nothing is real ..."
2: "Don't worry be happy."
Is that confused?
No. The world is confused. I am not.
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