Living in a Van
“Retro, two-story beachfront condo with second floor deck perfect for sunbathing, freedom flailing and fine dining while watching the surf. Relatively low maintenance fees, no mortgage or rent, and fully mobile for when the view gets old or the surf is better elsewhere.” – Where’s My Office Now
Living in a van. Not out of obligation…out of choice.
I choose to pee in an old, empty protein container in the middle of the night, just mere feet from my husband’s head.
I choose to co-exist in a box with the ever-shedding, always scratching dog by the name of Sitka – hair everywhere!
I choose to schedule my life around how badly (or not) I need to shower – “I can’t go for a run today! I just showered!!”
On the topic of showering, I choose to outsource all bathroom cleaning to someone else entirely – thank you Starbucks (all over this frickin city) and U-Vic. I was never much of a cleaner anyways…
I choose to cook modest meals that basically require boiled water. Heck…I was also never much of a cook either.
I choose to cringe at every new clink, clank and clacking sound as I drive my 1989 Westfalia van.
I choose the occasional (but at one time often) restless sleep in a Walmart parking lot – so bright and loud!
I choose to get outside…a lot. To enjoy the sun and the beach.
I choose a life of affordability – to live within my means (or WELL within my means), and to give more freely to others of my time and money.
I choose to consume less – to spend money on experiences instead of stuff.
I choose personal growth – to stretch my limits, and cultivate new perspectives.
I choose the freedom to explore; to disconnect; to play; to frolic as a wild wolf. To howl at life with enthusiasm, positivity and wonder.
Weird choice? My choice. Peace.