Boojum, I think that was the same Diana; sounds like it anyway. I'd forgotten about Bean and Maggie, although I didn't know either of them very well.
To continue my story ...
Within a couple of months of me meeting Fred and joining Scientology, his roommate moved out and got a place with his girlfriend. So I moved in with Fred. It was a horrible place on Norfolk Street; I remember there being other Scientologists in the building (I can't remember their names, but it was a married couple and they had a baby during the time I lived there). It was a strangely configured apartment; the bathroom had a window that opened into the kitchen (what were they thinking when they designed that???) and the only source of heat was the gas stove in the kitchen. The apartment was also totally infested with cockroaches; not my first experience with them, but definitely worse than I'd ever had before. Sorry if this grosses people out, but I'd often be woken up in the night by a roach crawling over my ear ... but I was young, happy, and in love. I did start looking for another apartment though.
I continued on course at the Mission; I can't remember specifically which courses, but I remember listening to some tapes of Ron. He was very charismatic, and I remember thinking of him as a kindly father figure who was sharing this great knowledge that he had with all of us. I think that was when I really started to feel like there was something there that I wanted and needed to be a part of. When I was in high school I'd wanted to become a psychologist; with no money for college I gave up that dream, but becoming a Scientology auditor seemed like a pretty good alternative. It would allow me to help people by listening to them talk about their problems, and so I felt that I was finally going to be able to do what I'd always wanted to do.
Meanwhile, after a few months of living in the Norfolk Street place, I found an apartment on Mass Ave between Central and Harvard Squares. It was far from luxurious, but it was definitely a step up. It was while living there that I decided to join staff at the Cambridge Mission. Looking back, I guess I was just trusting that it would all work out. Fred was already on staff, and so I was aware of how much (or how little) he got paid. There was no way we would be able to pay rent and buy food with both of us on staff, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. I realize in retrospect that there is no logic to that line of thinking. I don't know how I thought it would work; I do remember feeling somewhat as if I was jumping off a cliff into the unknown.
Here's where my memories get a little hazy. I don't remember how long I was actually on staff, but my guess would be 6 months or so. I don't even remember much of what I did on staff. I do remember the morning musters, and waiting for break so that we could all go around the corner to a little shop that sold wonderful muffins and coffee. How we had money for that is a mystery, because I also remember times when we'd be looking under the couch cushions in our apartment for change so that we could go to Uncle Bunny's and get an ice cream. (Uncle Bunny's was the place where I first encountered Haagen Dazs ice cream; they had a few flavors made with honey instead of sugar and I could not get enough of them.)
One thing I do vividly remember about my time on staff was that I'd taught myself calligraphy, and I ended up doing all the certificates for course completions, etc. I really enjoyed that, and would often even bring them home to work on in what little free time I had. We worked from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. every day during the week. I don't remember if we worked weekends though; for some reason I don't think we did.
Our finances continued to plummet; it was a regular occurrence to find late rent notices under our door when we got home. I don't know how we managed to not get evicted, but after 6 months or so I realized I had to leave staff and get a job that actually paid. I remember thinking to myself that after the kind of hours I'd been working at the Mission, and with the constant push for stats (and being careful to not say, do, or even think the wrong thing), that any job I'd find would seem like a piece of cake to me. I didn't realize that joining staff wasn't something I could just decide to quit. Fortunately the ED of the Mission let me go; I was still continuing on course, and Fred was still on staff. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was extremely lucky that he was so compassionate about our situation. Things could have gotten really ugly, but I was blissfully unaware of that possibility back then.
... to be continued ...
