It always seems impossible until its done

Nelson Mandela. So true.

Last night was my volunteer night at Legal Aid. This of course followed a day that started at 5:00 am, consisted of one of more painful 8 hour depositions I've had to attend in awhile, and ended with a crappy ass commute from downtown to the beach. But I digress. Back to Legal Aid.

"Jane" comes to the window and asks to see me. Jane, by way of background, is a 62 year old woman from New Orleans. She has a beautiful accent made only more beautiful by her striking appearance—deep coffee skin and bright blue eyes. Jane, while soft spoken, is a pathological liar. No, I'm not judging her (I've been known to tell some whoppers myself), I'm just stating the facts. You see, Jane has come to see me before. And every time Jane comes she has a different version of her story.

Jane, as it seems, has been living with her ex-husband/boyfriend/brother in his recently deceased wife's house/apartment/condo for the past 6 weeks/months/year. Follow me? Jane is not listed on the rental agreement. Because she is not on the rental agreement, everyone that lives there is getting evicted.

Jane has come to see me for the last three weeks about the situation/the landlord/the "woman who is doing evil" to her. I have, patiently, explained to Jane what the rental agreement says, how her "ex-husband/boyfriend/brother" has broken the agreement and that it is landlord's right to evict her—whether its "evil" or not.

Last night Jane had a new story. Last night Jane told me that the family needs to live there because her son is graduating from high School in June and they can't move until that happens. Jane is adamant that they are going back to New Orleans as soon as he graduates. I resist to urge to thank God and explain to her that I am very happy to hear that her son is graduating but that she was required to move out 3 weeks ago. Jane says, "Ok, well then I move out 3 weeks ago. What now?" Nice.

After explaining to Jane, for the 15th time, how the law here in California works she looked at me, straight in the face and said, "so that's it?" I said, "That's it Jane." Her response? "Well why didn't you just say that?" Sigh. I hope that Jane really does get "it", that she some how resolves the situation, and that her "family" finds a new place to live.

I drove home, hopeful that I would get there in time to see my Nathan before he fell asleep, hold him, lose my day in his sweet little boy smell. And I did.

It always seems impossible until its done.