The Tightening Noose

It is very rare my anger fires-up to slam the table top with fury level. Yesterday it did, blisteringly so.

When you are on a fixed income society deems worthy of a rent subsidy (Section 8 in my case) the rule of thumb is one-third of your income goes towards your housing, the subsidy pays the balance.  If you are single like I am, you have what’s called a one-bedroom voucher. The amount of rent your voucher provides for is determined by where you live. A one-bedroom voucher provides for a higher rent in, say, Westchester, New York, one of the wealthier community in the country. For a less prosperous community, the allowable rent would be lower. That’s fine. I’m okay with this.

Okay then. My current lease will be up soon and so I recently submitted documentation of my income to the area housing authority that oversees Section 8.  My monthly disability has gone up $18 and my monthly medical expenses (medication co-pays) have gone up $17.20 which means I am dancing on air with an 80 cents a month increase! (That dreamed about cabin cruiser will be mine in no time!) So, my income is pretty much the same as it was last year, which is why I nearly exploded in fury when I received notification yesterday that my portion of the monthly rent will increase by $45. That’s a big hit when you have a little less than $300 to cover food and gas for a two-month period.

I was boiling. On the phone, leaving a voicemail for the housing authority, hand slamming down on my writing table. Fury. There had to be a mistake. One third of my income to housing, cool. But an 80-cent increase in monthly income doesn’t translate into a $45 a month increase in rent. I was wrong. (Math and I have never been on friendly terms.) What I didn’t see coming was this: the allowable rent for a one-bedroom voucher in my area has been drastically reduced, anything over the reduced amount comes out of my pocket. It is moments like this when I want to throttle those hell  bent on protecting the rich and gut the middle class and the poor because God forbid those selfish slivers of slime sacrifice….what exactly?

Now, if someone reading this responds by attacking the government as if the government was and is this big bad nasty-ass entity, let me ask you something. Where exactly are the offerings from the private sector? Hmm? As for the very small minority who thinks that I or anyone in my position like it here because we are leeches, here’s a thought. Let me give you a segment of my life experience to live with; let me fire a bullet into your brain at point blank range, then come talk to me about how much fun your having.

By the way, the woman from the housing authority that works with me and the staff from the area Independent Living Center were very kind, very gentle, and very allowing of my anger and upset yesterday. God bless’m. They’re in no danger of being overpaid either.

In the meantime, the noose tightens, the pressure mounts. Thank God for books and coffee and friends and music and nature and, most of all, life.

2 thoughts on “The Tightening Noose


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