freedom is a state of mind...

there are many times i wonder why me?

why do i have the pleasure of enjoying this radical freedom?...

but then i am reminded that i am sleeping in a station wagon, the camp bathroom is way too far for a middle of the night pee (which means i am covertly popping squats outside my car) & i stop on the way to work to rinse all the dirt off my feet so i don't look as homeless. fortunately these are sacrifices i am willing to make...but yesterday i got to a point where i was genuinely over the vagabonding lifestyle.

first,

i thought i would accept a job cleaning bathrooms at a nice camp ground/cabins i stayed at over the weekend. why you ask?

a. i thought it would be an interesting experience

b. you actually make really good money!

c. it is right by my favorite beach in Denmark

but then yesterday morning the wife of the guy who hired me called to tell me i am not "required" anymore, which is a condescending way of saying: no job. granted i could tell from the beginning that it was her husband who favored me... and i did have visions of punching her in the face when she told me late check out was $50...and there might have been a towel missing from the cabin...but all factors aside, i never thought i would be "let go" from a bathroom cleaning job...it was too early for such a low blow to my ego.

then, i was driving the station wagon to the beach before work to clear the upset & i pulled into what i thought was a parking spot but was actually a walkway. i drove into a lovely wood post in such a way as to jar the passenger side door permanently shut. this means that only 3 of the 5 doors actually open ->last week the panel beater broke the back door in a similar way (which i thought was ghetto enough). oh & the rear view mirror fell off some time in between.

later as i was cooking, just as my tofu reached perfection, i picked up the fry pan & apparently the screw was loose on the handle & it flipped upside down, dropping my dinner in the dirt. this was the point of total frustration. actually i almost cried but then a Malaysian woman who witnessed the defeat yelled to me, "hey just wash it off, this is what they call 'roughing it'". i am proud to say i picked the tofu out of the dirt, cleaned it, & recooked it.

i guess this is what they mean by "freedom has its price".