I have a little bit to say about tiny houses again. I started getting frustrated out the wazoo on the regular with mine. There are reasons, but it’s an unfortunate fact that none of the reasons are “good.” Sometimes I just get that way. I look up, and all I see is weight.
I lose my sight all the time. My vision doesn’t suffer much, but my heart pumps out an extra beat.
If you have a contractor friend or $20,000 – I have great news. You can have your own tiny house. You can begin a small-world-after-all journey where you float in and out of the fairytale pages at will. Do NOT be afraid. You cannot lose.
If you’re going it alone with a few grand – if you’re waiting for windfalls – if your name isn’t Bob or Deek: you might not find this easy. This can be a hard fucking scrabble.
My story here continues; my story here ends.
I began building my house a year and a half ago. I was under-funded, but I hoped I could make it work. I started selling more stuff online, and as the money trickled in, materials were purchased. What I didn’t realize is that I’d never be done.
I’ll never be done!
I’m not particularly happy with my home’s layout. If I could go back a year and start from there, I would change a lot. A lotta lot. At no point have I had enough money. I look at people’s tongue-and-groove this-and-that and all I hear is the Beach Boys. “Oh, wouldn’t it be nice!”
I have this cute little house, and I’m living in it. It beats the pants off my apartment in Philly. Most of the time it’s where I’d like to be more than any other place. Quiet; heat cranked; just a touch of cowboy. But I have wires hanging all over the walls, not nearly enough storage, and washing dishes is a nightmare. (Yes, even doing a shitty job of it). Furthermore, I can’t afford to continue pumping all my money into this project. Every time I get a couple hundred bucks, it’s gone. I’m going to escape for the winter with Kristin, and money is too tight to be buying some kind of pine right now.
All of this started to get me more than frustrated. Now I have to focus back on telling myself that everything is fine, and nobody died from not having a halfway decent table saw. At some point – and I don’t care when or how – this house will be “finished.” For right now, I’m just trying to live my life and count my blessings. Reality is whatever you think it is, and I need to remind myself that life is easy. If I don’t do a goddamned thing for the rest of my life, I will live and die just the same. And I mean that as a good thing. That’s a bar I can step right over.
**** I’ll be traveling this winter. Me and Kristin will be driving around and sleeping in my tiny car. I’m usually a pretty damn good writer during my jackassed adventures, so if you want to see a story unfold, go to 721pm.blogspot.com. The trip is an unplanned hip-shot with a fair chance at a boatload of WTFs. Hopefully in a fun way, but almost definitely in some kind of way. Also, thanks for reading this. I love writing, and I feel absolutely great whenever somebody notices. I hope to have something cohesive and coherent going by… November 10th-ish? I have no idea how we’re going to sleep in my car for +/- 4 months, and it will be a screaming success if it isn’t a disaster.****