SHAME! SHAME! SHAME! My inner self screams at me this morning. Despite my determination to do it myself, and presented with some minor obstacles, I caved and brought Mark into the mechanic. Mark is what I am now calling the van.. considering the decades old paint marking it the “Mark III”, several times.. it seemed fitting.
This decision was actually made with the help of a friend. Let’s just call this friend Jonnie for privacy reasons. Jonnie is a bit of a problem in my life here.. he’s a great kid, I truly love him and care about him but man… he can make things difficult sometimes. I actually almost wrote a post about him on the mildly infuriating; but it felt downright petty and even though there is zero chance he’ll ever see it, well.. I dunno. Anyways, to give a broad overview, I met this kid a month ago or so as he approached me to compliment and check out my van. We became fast friends, and again, I love him; but he has no understanding of personal boundaries. It seems he finds me at the worst moments no matter where I go. Getting ready for bed? He’s yelling my name from 100 yards away, ready to ask for a ride or to see if I have any food. The irony of this is his truck is much more equipped for lending a ride, and his skinny ass somehow eats 5x as much as I do. I need all the food I have lol.
He also has a tendency to park directly next to me even when there’s hundreds of available space on either side. I wouldn’t mind but man, he is LOUD. Anyways, I’m gonna get off this petty shit; i just needed to vent. And here’s a great place for that.
Anyways, yeah, Jonnie helped name the van. Rather, after I accidentally named his truck, I pondered aloud “I wonder what to name the van” and he said Mark without skipping a beat. The obvious answer. So, I gave in, desperately needed to get the headache over with, and booked an appointment with a mechanic. I promise you, Mark, I’ll do all future work on you myself :)
Van appointment made, day off from work, somehow smoke-less weather; mind more at ease than it has been in awhile now. I spent a good amount of time doing yet another belongings shuffle in the van. After two months, I’m starting to get a good sense of what I need on a daily basis, and how to best tuck the other stuff away. I have only accumulated more things since I moved in, yet I feel like I have more room each week. The possibility of gutting and rebuilding the interior before winter is starting to dwindle away for the year; it won’t be long until the rainy season begins. So I guess Mark will remain unchanged until next year. No complaints here; I’m just nervous about the lack of insulation for the upcoming winter. I’ll survive!
As I was thrashing my belongings in and out of the van, a familiar face walked by and came up to me like we were old friends. It’s refreshing to start to feel like a part of this new-to-me community. As a single 33 year old, living sober in a van in the isolated Pacific Northwest- loneliness has been my biggest enemy in this journey. Not to mention the friend I am picking up at the airport Wednesday for his weeklong spontaneous visit. By the time he leaves, I feel like my social meter will be maxed out again.
My computer is stuck in a restarting loop. Oh well, add it to the list. I gotta start saving for a new one; it has been insanely problematic for me. So, instead of working on my book, I ran out my frustration. Running has unfortunately slipped down the list on my daily priorities- mainly just because of the smoke- but with the winds shifting the AQI is not quite as deadly so I gotta get back on my bullshit.
Why the shit am I so tired my brain screams at me while I punch my oversized sausage fingers into the phone screen. I haven’t been doing nearly as much as I typically do lately- but maybe therein lies the issue. In the past, I’d solve this with drinking or some other form of partying.. instead, sober me says go to bed. So I guess I have to listen to it…
See me at 3 o clock in the morning. Unable to fall asleep and restlessly thrashing in the woods. I can almost guarantee it 🥰
