Hi, my name is Sara and Welcome to my hopefully short-lived Page of Shame. If Short End of The Stick had an acronym, it would be my middle name. My story sadly begins on Christmas Day. For many that is one of the most enjoyable times of the year. For me it's most definitely the worst. That's because in addition to having no family, it's also my birthday. Instead of 'Oh Joy!' it's more like 'no joy', especially since I'm supposedly passed the age for 'Toy Joy!'

I was mistakenly born to an alcoholic mother who never let me forget how much she did not want me. Every single year there was at least one majorly traumatic event, although one thing she made sure of was to keep my birthday and Christmas presents separate. That was nice of her, but that all ended when she died of cirrhosis and other complications due to alcohol when I was 15. I tried living with my Dad for a bit, but he had his addictions as well and couldn't take care of me either so I was placed in a shelter, then ended up a Ward of the State, had a 5 month stint (the average stay was 2 weeks) at Orangewood Children's Home for abused, abandoned and neglected children, which I actually loved, and then Foster Care. After 4 different high schools and 1 miscarriage informing me of my infertility, which dashed any dreams of having a family and home of my own from the getgo. Survived a couple of SAs and my father was released from prison, that time, I moved from San Diego to LA to try to be closer to him, again. I had a tiny taste of normalcy attending court reporting school, until my Dad was imprisoned, again. This time for 11 years. I had to quit school and began working 2 jobs to support myself. My dad, while in prison not only had breast cancer, but later diagnosed with Alzheimer's, barely remembered I was his daughter or that he was an Organic Chemist and died 2 months to the day of his release. In the midst of that I was finally able to experience and provide stability for myself with a job I held for 7 years and stable roof over my head for 8 years, by then. That was 16 years ago. I have now been in one consistent environment for 24 years! That's no small feat for anybody, and especially a former foster kid brought up in nothing but dysfunction and instability.

Even though my mom was one of seven children, every body is dead except for a few distant cousins that I barely know and live thousands of miles away, and I haven't seen since my childhood. So I basically have nobody in this world or I wouldn't be here having to resort to this. Thanks to my mom I have severe social phobias, in real life and online. Borderline agoraphobic. I prefer to drive and work only at night, and being an independent contractor for as long as the laws allow, I don't even have any co-workers. I have zero social life or social media presence. Never even had a myspace account, commented but never initiated a post, anywhere, ever, until now. Never sent a tweet, despite 2 X accounts, and definitely have never posted a pic! So while this is already humiliating to anyone for understandable reasons, it's a triple whammy level of mortifying for an overly private highly sensitive recluse like me.

This past Christmas I just turned the age my mom was when she died. I was worried this year might be bad and so far it hasn't failed to disappoint! One week before my Xmas bday my 15yo first rescue cat died pretty much in my arms. Then I had a minor although terrifying medical event. Then this Feb I experienced what was previously one of my biggest fears; I hit an animal while driving!!! And my most recent rescue kitty shattered a glass jewelry box from on top of my dresser that I had gotten from my mom when I was 10yrs old and managed to keep all this time.

In spite of that little recent disappointing chain of events I made a conscious choice to flip it and hopefully break this curse and instead of expecting more doom and gloom, after I paid off this debt I was going to finally really start living and thriving and pursuing my dreams, for real this time, instead of just barely surviving and focusing on dying, just because she did.

But then this happened...

The day before the 2 rent payments I was told to make were due I received a text basically telling me to keep my money and don't bother making those payments as they won't put a dent in what I owe now that the Covid debt is counted against me. (I turned in the Declarations to prevent exactly this situation, where worst case would be small claims NOT eviction court, but apparently that LA County protection doesn't apply to the part of LA County where I live?) The new owner, as of the last 4 years, I guess didn't fully agree with the arrangement the office that I've dealt with for the last 22 years made with me and he wants them to serve me, unless I can get proof of some kind of assistance, pay in full, or turn in my keys to prevent any legal action. I already had 1 of the money orders, so it's not as if I didn't have the money. I could've paid this off in 6 months. What I couldn't do is pay it all at once with a few weeks notice, on my own. And I couldn't have 24 years worth of stuff packed up in a few weeks all by myself and I definitely can not have an eviction on my record.

Since then my little world has been utterly destroyed. Never cried so much and for so long in my life! And I've been through A Lot, much more than I conveyed above. All I have left now and care about is my home and my muppets. I can't even think about the alternative because there isn't one worth considering. Everywhere else is more expensive and I'm in no position whatsoever to relocate anywhere let alone most likely out of my native state, if the worst were to happen. So this is literally do or die for me. I was already barely hanging on as it was and this is not a situation most people can just bounce back from and I know I wouldn't survive the consequences of an eviction and/or of homelessness nor have the will or strength to start starting over again 10 years from now older with even less to live for and with even further declining health if I even make it until then.

Not to mention, I picked this apartment when I wasn't even looking. A former co-worker lived here and when I came over I told her "when you move, let me know" and she did. I still love it and haven't even outgrown it yet. It's nothing fancy, no built-in amenities, no pool, etc. I don't even have closet doors or a working stove, plumbing issues and the dishwasher has been broken since before I moved in. And no, it's not rent controlled. But it's still big and bright and I feel Safe and it's still my dream place and hopefully I'll still be able to call it home, with your help, for another decade or so, at least.

I don't want to end up and refuse to be just another statistic of the gig economy or of being a minority or casualty of the eviction wave or of the LA homelessness crisis or a victim of the damage of my broken childhood and assaults or even of suicide. I've maintained this humble abode for 24 years so far and can't bear to lose it all over 1 year due to Covid quarantine miscommunications, especially when I was paying! The shame of having to pack and with nowhere to go is a too devastating to even fathom. I seriously would rather die first, than the fear of what I'd be subjected to and the hopelessness of my future.

Please help prevent me from becoming a statistic or even worse. And help me keep this roof over my head so I can live and continue to be a productive member of society and get a chance to do the good I finally was getting the courage to do in this world. Although this is definitely not how I imagined my introduction.

Since I had and have every intention of paying this myself to the owner and never expected a free ride, or handouts (I never even applied for the stimulus pay). If my goal amount is reached and my you know what it truly saved, I pledge to re-pledge the pledges of the goal amount via the team leaders and hashtags within 1 year, with proof of repayment via updates. More like a GoFrontMe. I don't live above my means, by any means, I have zero subscriptions, splurges, never go out, to Starbucks, etc, (except for deliveries) I don't even have internet service. & less than $2,500 in credit card debt. All my money goes to rent, bills and pet food, and in spite of the almost $600 in rent increases in the last 4 years, it's still affordable (compared to elsewhere) and perfectly realistic for me to be able to pay this back within a year. Especially when that's much easier than driving 84 hours a week to pay it off in 6 months. And luckily even after 8 years and the animal incident, I'm still able to and still love driving for a living. So a year to pay back a life saving debt would be a blessing in more ways than one and I why I volunteer and joyfully accept that challenge with eyes and arms wide open.

Please help me keep my roof and my rep with the Mgr as the one who she refers to "always pays" and redeem myself and the mgmt co, too, for taking a chance on me with the new owner and show them both that I wasn't a mistake and worth the risk and wait. And give me the opportunity to pay it back to all of you to prove the same.

Every last penny of the goal amount is solely for the landlord. Luckily there are no late or lawyer fees.

Even though I would give anything to not have to be here and in this situation. I must say I do feel lucky to be alive at a time and grateful beyond belief that platforms like this even exist and that actually have the potential to truly change and even literally save someone's life.

Every cent and sentiment means the world to me!

Thank you so much and more than all my many words can ever even say for your time and consideration in supporting me and my survival!

With sincere and humble gratitude,

Sara <3

=^..^=