THERE'S NOTHING ABOUT Jimmy Armstrong's appearance or demeanor to suggest that he is, by his own description, "one step away from homelessness." He wears crisp clothes and demonstrates a relentless, almost evangelical optimism. Yet on a recent walk through the Tenderloin, he admitted, "Right now I'm no different than that guy pushing that basket across the street or sleeping in that doorway."

Armstrong doesn't have a home of his own and for the past two years has constantly turned to his deep bench of friends and family for help. "When it first started, it made me feel, ooh, so terrible to ask them," he said.

But if there's one thing that bothers Armstrong more than asking for help, it's the way his situation has separated him, to one degree or another, from his four children.

Just three years ago Armstrong had a job in Sacramento with an electronics company and a happy marriage. He and his wife shared a four-bedroom tri-level house and two cars with their four kids and her three older sons. Then the marriage disintegrated, and Armstrong moved into a one-bedroom apartment nearby.

"I left because I was only allowed to have one kid in that apartment," he said. Hoping that with help from his loved ones he could get on better financial footing, Armstrong moved back to San Francisco, his two sons in tow. He left his daughters – the youngest of whom is fighting leukemia – in Sacramento with his ex-wife. Every weekend that he has enough cash, Armstrong and the boys take the bus to visit them.

"I didn't come here to be homeless," Armstrong insisted. However, he can hardly scrape by on his 20-hour-a-week office assistant job with an investment firm in the Financial District. After child support is deducted from his check, Armstrong makes $89 a week.

Armstrong's sons, now 13 and 14 years old, live at their grandmother's house. He either stays there or with friends, but he's desperate to have a place of his own. "That's all I'm looking for: a good 40-hour-a-week job and a place to stay with my kids – they're really all I got."

Armstrong got a spot in a shelter a few months back. But while the first floors were reserved for families, the top two were for people just getting out of jail, and he didn't feel it was safe.

Armstrong won't go on General Assistance. "Everybody keeps encouraging me to go apply for G.A., but I don't want to. I'm a worker." Later in our conversation another reason for his reluctance is revealed: "Seven years ago I got in trouble for working because my wife and kids were on it. But I didn't know that wasn't OK. The judge believed me, gave me just a slap on the wrist. I vowed then to never be on it again."