here. What point am I trying to prove and to whom? The wind is
whipping my tent walls so violently to and fro that I cannot sleep
there. It's hard to find solice in my car which is jam packed with
all the stuff I didn't leave behind. Right now, I just seems like
junk that is in my way and bogging me down. The roads are covered
with water...no wonder everyone here has a truck. I should have a
truck but instead I have a car that has 186,000 miles on it, a broken
windshield wiper, a broken window (that just miraculously happened
yesterday) and a bike rack with no bike. I could get a motel, but I'm
nearing broke. The money I made to come down here is almost gone and
the bit that trickled in today won't last long.
The woman from the cafe called me today. She tells me I should plan
on coming to work real soon, but that her daughter, Marsha, owns the
place and is the one who does the hiring, so I'd have to talk to her.
She says Marsha left me a message but I told her I received no such
message. I hope this isn't getting off to a bad start.
God, the rain is really coming down. The power went out and the
ranger locked up the bathrooms, so when my service got cut off at the
campsite I decide to drive to the gas station at the end of the road.
All that plus the wailing winds was just too isolating. I was afraid
too make calls when it started lightening anyway, so I figured I could
write and go somewhere where I could be in touch with someone if I
really need to. The problem is, in moments like this, I end up
wanting to reach out to those I shouldn't to calm my fears. Doing so
would only perpetuate feelings that best remain buried. So, here I
sit, alone, in the rain, the wind, on an island where I know nobody,
and I am essentially, for all intense purposes, living in my car. I
contend that I am not homeless, but I am living in my car, a self-
imposed dillemma that I'm no longer sure if I'm comfortable with. But
I can't give up now! I've only been here for a little over a week! I
would feel like such a wimp, such a loser if I gave up now and went
home. I can hear the comments now about my 'vacation', which in all
honesty, has been anything but. I have spent my entire time worrying
about what comes next and how I'm going to get there. I had to stop
searching the Internet the other day when I was driving myself crazy
about jobs. What am I going to do? What am I REALLY going to do? I
had a good job. My boss was great, I loved what I did, I believed in
it, I threw my entire soul into it and was crushed when politics came
into play so I left it behind. Suddenly the lousy pay was lousy pay
and the benefits weren't worth the hassle. Plus, I can't see myself
sitting at a desk for the rest of my life. I'm afraid I may shrivel
up and die. If I don't ge a job, I may shrivel up and die from
starvation! (I am really far from starvation. I have lots of food
that will last me for a while in my car.)
The gas station is closing now but luckily the lights are still on.
It's so dark at the campground and I can't find one of my flashlights,
the one I know and trust will last for hours upon hours. Last night
in the whirlwind of transferring from tent to car, I lost track of
it. I know it's floating around the car somewhere but it's not easy
to move all this junk around and find it in the dark.
The rain just stopped and everything is quiet. It's amazing how
emotions run rampant with the storm. Peaked at it's most intense and
relieved at it's most calm. I still don't know how I'll manage to get
to work by 4am on nights like tonight camping. When will I take my
cold shower at the bathhouse?
I had grand plans of playing my guitar and reading in my car on nights
like this but I can't seem to let myself be at ease, I just worry and
feel insecure. That's the worst feeling in the world, insecurity.
I've suffered from it my entire life. Perhaps that's why I'm here, to
try to conquer insecurity by doing things that make me feel the most
insecure. Maybe I'm just sadistic. Who knows.
"Here comes the rain again," Anne Lennox sings in my head. Too bad
she already stole that lyric. I might have written a good song with
I went for a long walk on the beach the other morning. I had seen
Mark and Suzanna mulling around before I left but I thought I'd wait
until I got back to go speak to them. I had intentions of hanging out
with them the previous night but wasn't sure how. I thought I'd
invite them to dinner but honestly, I was not feeling creative and I
was cooking mostly leftovers that I wasn't quite sure if I should
still eat much less anyone else. I thought perhaps I'd invite them
down for a beer after dinner but it came to pass and I just went to
sleep. By the time I returned from my long walk, Mark and Suzanna had
already packed up and gone. That's the story of my life...paved with
good intentions. I really liked them and hoped to possibly keep in
touch but I blew it because I hesitated. I think I didn't want to
bother them as much as anything being newlyweds and all.
Talking to them the other night at dinner about how long they had been
together made me really happy for them but sad for me. I have never
managed a relationship beyond a year and a half. They were together
for five years prior to marriage. Talking about it just made me
realize how alone I really am and I just seem to keep doing things
that isolate me.
I went to the my favorite beach after my walk that morning convinced
that I would finally get in the water. Every other day I just sat in
my chair watching the surf competition. After about an hour sitting
next to empty blankets, a couple with surfboards in their hands walk
up; it was Mark and Suzanna! Apparently I plopped my stuff next to
theirs perhaps through some sort of strange, comic intention. I had
another chance to chat with them before they headed home and exchange
contact information. Moments like these seem random but I can't help
but think there is a reason for them.
The rain is picking up again but I am getting sleepy. Time to head
back to camp and attempt to sleep. I'm going to need to go to bed
much sooner than this for the 4am job...