So, 2024 was weird also cause money became a huge topic and while I’ve always had an income from somewhere and five cents to my name it’s a weird space to find yourself in to have some actual money and options.
I wanted to blog about it last year but was up to my eyeballs in all the things, so had to let things play out and play catch up. This ergo-case-in-point is the catch up.
I guess, women of my generation, didn’t get educated about how to manage money. I’m Gen X remember. I did grow up with coins and handling money. My first paid job I picked up a yellow envelope with cash and coins in it. I had a paid job from around fifteen years old.
As an adult when you have household expenses you learn you need to have more coming in than going out. Sure, but on bigger expenses women my age was taught that we would marry and our husband would take care of it. Do you see me writing about a Husband? I have an Italian surname so it was largely assumed I would get a husband. Not bitter. Just making a point.
Some of the groups I’m in, some women will see and ask a friend who seems to manage her finances well and when asked she will be told “Oh, my husband does all of that!” So, it is to say I did consult a financial advisor. He’s in his late thirty’s, lovely man who I have not made proud. Yet. He wanted me to continue renting forever.
But as my next post will context women like myself when I reach sixty, are more than likely find themselves homeless. I’ve had to educate younger men on this topic.
So, I thought I should circle back to part of why 2024 was such a shit show. I started the year with a really good support coordinator. I thought no issues on the horizon so why not bring in a third carer agency to take the pressure off one of my other two, so I get some more variety with carers.
Since the start of Covid I was getting one carer for four shifts per week which I worked out quickly was three too many.
Having carers over the year you work out over time and pretty quickly who you mesh well with, who you can rely on and who you can be flexible, because sometimes it is me and my expectations. Can I work around different personalities, or should I not need too? When I asked if I could have less of this carer, I was told it was her or no one. I was also told they were recruiting. The number of times, I’ve been told they are recruiting in the last fifteen plus years, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve been told that I would be living in a house not an apartment.
Alas, my support coordinator No.1 for 2024, set me up with a new agency, we did the three-way zoom intro meet and greet thing. (Never done one of those before) Then I went to the countryside for about four days to help clear out my father’s house in late January. WHEN I RETURNED TO PULL THE TRIGGER ON THE NEW CARER, I WAS TOLD SHE HAD TAKEN EMPLOYMENT ELSEWHERE! Then, I was told they had a lack of carers in my area and would keep me on the books. You bet I was told they were recruiting in my area.
Just a FYI. It’s now a year later and I’ve not heard from them again. So, I digress, my really good support coordinator was promoted to Team Leader. It is the only progression for that position in a company, so I think it was my third in about five years I’d lost my Support Coordinator to being Team Leader. Although they always moved on, I gather soon after.
AND YES, IF I HAD A DOLLAR FOR EVERY TIME I’D BEEN TOLD THEY WERE RECRUITING MORE SUPPORT COORDINATORS ID HAVE A GOOD HANDFUL OF GOLD COINS.
The new support coordinator, in July we were already discussing and planning a request for a review of my NDIS funds.
This is as promised my fifth post in a session of writing. I’m on a roll. I might even try to finish open a more positive note. No promises see what I can do?
So, to give some context from all the things regarding my previous posts. For the last seven years I’ve rented an apartment through an affordability scheme. It was to take people off the public housing list but help landlords more than the tenant’s long term. The scheme ran for ten years, of which I benefited only the last seven. The landlords of new developments for a period were asked to offer up several properties to be managed by the government in exchange for cheaper rent to the tenant and what they lost in rent they got back at tax time. You gotta have money to make money, right? It is to say, I got to live in a complex with normal people not in a public housing silo. It is also the time to say when I got into this housing arrangement some bright spark, (Note sarcasm) despite my telling him not to, he had me removed from the housing list.
Every year I had to sign a new lease and provide financials and income statements to prove I was the only resident and I still qualified as low enough income to qualify for the scheme. What a MOTHER FUCKER. Mind you I had to do it every year for the seven years I was there. Honestly, it’s a different mindset. Remember the days you just needed to prove you could afford the rent?
In the time I’ve been on the Disability Support Pension I’ve had rent assistance which despite my rent going up every time, mostly initiating me having to relocate. It’s like the government that decides how much rent assistance needs to be doesn’t pay rent, or live in the real world, or care to learn how much rent is. We know the answer to all these things. No, they don’t!
In the last twenty years, I’ve rented houses for 4 years, each HOUSES WITH HOUSEMATES and at the end of the fourth year I’ve not been able to negotiate out of a rent increase, the landlord situation changes and I’ve needed to pay exorbitant rent or move. So, I’ve moved.
The house I rented the first time I moved with my disability. I struggled to find something in my price range and I was literally paying someone’s mortgage. I only had housemates for four months of the year. I stayed there and even asked my dad, who helped me a few times to cover the rent even though I’d bankrupt him.
That household situation had me move further out again, to never want housemates again. The first housemate, I ended up taking to VCAT, AMD. The second that lived with me for three months and was years my senior and had a huge reduction on her portion of the rent and had her son practically live with us. No more. There was the assumption, the government was paying my rent and my lifestyle. So, she thought to take advantage of that.
The last of the scheme I was in I paid $317 a week. At the end of the scheme my rent was to be $550 per week. They wanted me to sign a lease and there was no way I was doing that. If I was going to pay that much rent it was going to be somewhere nicer and quieter. I paid two weeks of that rent and timed it perfectly to get the fuck out.
I later checked the rental listing and it was advertised as $500 per week. Just scum, I know this post is a lot of specific financially, but necessary.
I could have afforded the scheme amount of rent in a reasonably comfortable lifestyle until sixty, when my income changes and I could no longer keep a roof over my head or the lights and internet on.
Not giving up all my things that tell people who I was/am/aspire to return to or just giving in and moving to some shit-fuck suburb, I wouldn’t survive in around people who HAVE ASPIRED TO NOT DO BETTER OR CARE, or to do better in life.
This post has not ended on a positive note has it.
My carer often leaves me in the car to do my hunter/gathering. She leaves the keys, so I tell her every time without fail “if some hot guy comes along, I’ll offer him me and your car!” followed swiftly by, you will return. Your car will be gone and I’ll be standing here dejected and I offered him so much.
We know that Self-deprecating humour is wrong, thanks Hannah Gatsby, but often it’s my default setting.
From my series, I don’t know who, but somebody needs to hear this and if it’s not you please forward this to the person you know that does. I live in an apartment these days like many people that cannot afford to live in a free-standing house.
I give people my address so, For example: 123/456 Blah Blah Road, Suburb. Now, obviously Blah Blah is not a real name. I am not in a creative mood, clearly.
Next the first digits, in this case “123” is the apartment number. NOT THE STREET ADDRESS. The other number. “456” IS THE STREET ADDRESS. So, most importantly, if you don’t know this, don’t suggest I gave you the wrong details. If you didn’t know you could have asked? I won’t agree with you calling yourself an idiot, just admit you got it wrong.
I don’t understand people making it someone else’s fault rather than admit they got something wrong, don’t do that.
Rant over.
It’s been a tough day/week/month/year and people’ing is getting on my one last nerve.
I think this could be a series, but somebody needs to hear this! If it’s not you, forward it to someone who does?
If you are a plumber or work around excrement. Work with your mouth closed. I don’t know, said plumbers to learn this the hard way, however I know someone that does.
So, I posted those photos to a social media page. You know the one? I had created the page pre-covid to help people network/help each other etc in my apartment building.
When people consistently find themselves on the receiving end of pure selfishness, they post photos of the results of said selfish actions. As I did, only after texting the likely culprit.
Oh My God! Help Me! It got some response. I even sent texts to my actual property manager who contacted the OC, who contacted the tenants, then the tow truck company. And an hour later I got a grumpy rant on the group chat making it sound like she was the victim.
I then had to Admin the shit out of her inappropriate use of the group chat. As I had politely asked her directly, because I had correctly guessed it was her motorbike in front of my shed. She deciding to ignore my messages I then posted it to the group chat hoping to get a little swifter action.
The fact that she got very defensive and stated she had only stopped in for ten minutes and ended staying longer was all completely irrelevant to the fact she had ignored my basic right to have what she takes for granted.
Hellonwheels, allows me basic freedom to go some distances and do local appointments without needing to rely on others and do a little local Hunter/Gathering of items I can take up to and into my home one-handed.
I have a little confession to make, with a little humour.
When I was young and heartbroken, I was vulnerable to a distraction called XYZ. What? Did you think I would just tell you? I refer to a trashy American TV daytime soapy. Hence why I’m not saying which one?
I feel the judgement already. I just wanted to suggest the writers really should be aware some of us know when they are just recycling storylines. So, if you are a fan (is the wrong term, Hostage?) Carter and Hope. They should not be getting Busy. Someone say Uncle?”
Well, another year is over, it has been full of ups and downs. We at Hellonwheels wants to wish everyone a very Happy New Year and say a big thank you to all of you. We hope that 2025 is a year of all your dreams coming true.
This post is likely ahead of the first five to ten I’ve only written in my head but here we go. I’ve been doing a lot of research lately for where I will be next living, for how long I can afford to live there or just live in general, If I can afford to travel, in other words have a holiday and can I finally afford furniture from my favourite shop, can I afford any or all of these things?
I now utter sentences that includes words like “my financial advisor.” and it’s weird. I’m getting more comfortable with it but it’s still weird.
Don’t for a heartbeat imagine I’m wealthy however, my father, God bless him, has allowed me to consider life could have potential and could be a little sweeter.
A wise woman suggested I work out how much I need for the furniture I want, potential travel and work backwards.
Furniture, Holiday, Forever home, Check.
I just consulted the website to my favourite furniture store and my antidepressants are not strong enough.
Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 