Idlechat's Journal: It's hard living in Jerusalem during the winter

It's hard living in Jerusalem during the winter.
(An IdleStory. Requires some understanding of local politics)

It's hard to live in Jerusalem when it's winter.
Especially when you live in a building without central heating, during the snow season, when you have 4 kids, after you got your electricity disconnected.
Damn. Even in Russia things are better.
And my wise husband is angry on me for taking pills. More kids can come from what he cares. Nothing bad in that, right?

There are many settlers who has no problem holding a family of 9 lives, but it's only because they knew to fill the right forms on time, and that way they get stipends from the state. But I naively believed that me and my husband's jobs would be enough for supporting the family with dignity.

In theory it could have been right. My husband's job, and my job as a philosophy lecturer in the Hebrew University, could have been enough according to the calculations I did long time ago, when we both planned the family. But unfortunately I didn't bring into account the shopping sprees we both suffer from, and now we have an home cinema system, Playstation 2 and a toaster, but there's no electricity for powering them.

And it's SO FRIGGIN' COLD! The kerosene heater that my university friend donated indeed heats, but makes all apartment stink as well. At least it can also be used to heat food.

"Mom, I hate cooked cabbage"
"Eat, sweetie, so you'll be strong"
"But mom, I'm sick of eating cooked cabbage"
"There's no choice. That's what you'll have to eat until you grow big enough to work."
"Moshiko from the kindergarten told me that they eat a different thing every day. Today they ate kneidel. What's kneidel?"
"Kneidel isn't tasty, and isn't nutritious. You must believe me that cooked cabbage is the thing you have to eat."
"But mommmmm!!"
"Stop it, sweetie. Quit prattling and eat. And try not to throw up after that"
"Okay mom"
"Sweetie, mom has to go to work now. Your bigger sister will watch on you. Don't give her hard time, otherwise I gonna spank you when I return."
"Mom, I heard that there are people who enjoy spanking."
"Didn't I tell you to stop talking with Pervert Tsahi? I'll tell the Chastity Squad about him.. I hope he enjoys getting his ass whipped by them.."
"I'm sure he'll enjoy it, mom."
"Hush, sweetie. You're distracting me from preparing."

I'm trying to appear properly at work, and it's not simple. I need to shower in ice-cold water and then patch the new holes that appeared in the clothes. I'd try to get a loan in the gray market in order to buy some normal clothes, but each time I get close to any loan shark, he points at me and loudly laughs. Probably my nasty bank clerk told them all about me.

My work day, which started afternoon, didn't start off in a promising way. I was lecturing at that time about a topic I really hate talking about: The meaning of money and property in the western philosophy. When I got to Diogenes, who turned his back to wealth and lived most of his life in complete dependence on other's donations, the students looked at me and barely controlled themselves from laughing. I don't have sympathy for most of the students. I have a feeling that the only way to make them appreciate me more is to stop writing names in the beginning of my lectures.

But at that day, something new have happened. Most of the students ran away as usual from the lecture as soon as it ended. Some of them asked questions about the test and whether it'll have choice, and only my favourite student girl asked me difficult questions of real philosophical value. After all of them scattered, I noticed a non-conspicuous bloke sitting, who continued writing notes.

He rose towards me and I noticed that he was good looking, like Lior Ashkenazi.

"Greetings, Doctor. I woud like to exchange a few words with you."
"I haven't seen you in my lectures before. Do you want to fail? Participation is obligatory in 90% of the courses, so if you decided to appear just now, then you should know that it's already lost for you."
"You can say I'm a free student. I came to get an impression of your lecture."
"I understand. And how was it?"
"Very interesting. I liked your unique point of view about money. You succeeded very well to demonstrate how our lives can be empty if we never experience the true meaning of shortage."
"I am glad to hear."
"In any way, I understood that your economic situation isn't too good indeed, and the General Security Service - The Shabak - has an offer which will get you out of the mud once and for all. Here's the address - be there tomorrow at 21:00."
"Excuse me?"
"We will talk later. Goodbye."

The guy disappeared, and left me, looking wide-eyes on the piece of paper that he gave me.

The next day I appeared in the address that he gave me. I told my husband that I'm going to meet my friend, and he laughed and said that probably it's because she's nice and always inviting me to dinner.

After several exhausting interviews and a polygraph testing, I was led to a room with several people, and the good looking guy was within them. They all sat on the other side of the table with grave-looking faces. The good looking guy started to talk.

"Doctor, we believe that you are the appropriate person for our job. Let me tell you about it.
We want you to allegedly get married to a certain person, and hopefully it will cause him to tell you his secrets. It may also grant you an entry ticket to all the underground organizations of his followers. You will be our agent, and this way you may help us to prevent the next political murder.

The salary you'll be given will help you to pay your debts and much more than that, but it will cost you. It's not that you'll have to sleep with that person, but you'll have to show lust for him, and we'll make sure that it looks like we're making it hard for you and preventing you access to him. Most of the chances are that you won't even have to touch him, but the media will hate you and the people on the streets won't like you either. In addition, you'll have to seemingly divorce from your current husband.

Only 10 years later you will be allowed to leave that job, and then you'll be free to tell the media anything you want, but before that, you'll be one of the most slandered people of the country. The will be many satires on you on the television. Are you sure you are ready for that?"

It's awful, but I'm tired of eating cooked cabbage.

"I accept."
"Welcome to the Shabak, Larissa Trembovler."