A Mistake

As I apply for the umpteenth mcjob. As I send out countless digital resumes, I realized, once again, I made a terrible mistake.

Now,I am not one for great regret, but the other day, waiting for a meeting to determine my future among the "not-a-living-wage" type jobs, I found a book on tackling the"Brick Wall" of a tight, hyper-competative job market. 

This book starts, with all, to find a direction. You have to know what you want. It asks that we perform an exercise called the Seven Stories. The premise is simple: write down 20 to 25 enjoyable accomplishments. Look back into childhood,  in young adulthood, hobbies and in jobs  orcareers you have held.

I did my list on the back of the folded piece of paper I snagged; some expired advertisement for well-passed Employment Fairs. When I have a phone, or camera, or scanner, I can prove it. Imagine a scribbled note here:

Editors Note: Scribbly Note goes here. Use your imagination.

Some items that were on the list were: Piggy Pirates, A relationship that helped me learn about relationships, myself, and people, My brief stint with chain mail, Several stories I wrote in college and my work in  400 University Drive and the Ubiquitous. A portrait of Ian Anderson that caused my father to not have a critical remark. Tutoring adults and children in several subjects and having them do well.

I want you to note something - something immediately apparent. Not a single accomplishment was related to IT, Technical Support, or call center work.  I am reminded of 2001 when I had the option
to intern with an Art Instructor. Since I could not ratiocinate both work and the instruction with respect to time, I gave up on the internship, because you've got to work to eat.

The mistake has always been my inability to sacrifice a job for a career.  I always chose the job: A small piddly, temporary thing over the work of a career: a long course. My head wa snever one for computers. I can work with computers, I understand their value,  but I found them incredibly tedious to work with. Had I been able to find them even a bit interesting, perhaps I would have tried harder. But the work with them was about as interesting, and important to me, as one might feel working at Mcdonalds.  And whilst working these jobs, I did not work on my talents/


 When you have gifts, you must work in the direction to increase efficacy. If you have talent for something, it would be foolish to let it whither.

And I am not saying I am special (not in this post, anyway). I think we all have talents and I think most of us give up on using them. I want to say it's circumstances that lead us to this, but that's only half of it.  Circumstances, internal and external can only become so obnoxious before your will is thwarted.

Mastering a skill boils down to desire overcoming obstacles.  And success, and expertise, is simply displaying mastery in a skill. Your upbringing and genetics make it somewhat more easy to walk some paths than others. We call these talents.
 
When I was offered opportunities to master skills in my life, to test skills, I tended to withdraw. And this was my mistake. I was not prescient enough to realize the existential pain of regret would be far worse than the difficulty at the time.

I don't know if GenY has this problem. Do you? There seems a certainty among others that I never felt. Better parenting, better schools? Better information? The Internet has done wonders to help our self-esteem, and (destroy it).

All I can say, is, in wisdom borne from foolish mistakes plus years of making the same mistakes, is that if you have a passion, do make time to work on them. Work on them intensely, passionately, and consistently.

Application to play Sysiphus

Editors Note: Trying a new thing. All instances of swear words have been replaced with other words. The author is woefully unaware of our trick. Let us know if you it.

I don't know how many of you are on the hunt for a job. I'll say I am, but the truth is I am half-heartedly engaged in the process. It's not that I don't want to work, it's just that I don't really want a job.  If I, or anyone, is required to perform such a job, perhaps there should be some recompense in less hours?  I mean, robots can do our work anyway. 

Recently I got the chance to speak to my friend Linda, who is about my fathers age, about work. Labor. Her generation, and therefore my fathers, prided themselves on work. A good job, in a factory, marked your status in the community.

Even Norman Rockwell would find this quaint. A modern jaded hipster would find this the worst, hopeless conceit of a poor imagination. Not because we are afraid of work, but because the stable jobs are all low-wage unlivable jobs or high-stress paperwork jobs. Go on, read about the twenty hours staring at excel.

The truth is, the economy is sideways. The black-and-white Calvinistic, Austrian model of economics hasn't just been turned on it's ear, it's been kidnapped, gagged, and forced to inform people by the use of hoots, grunts, and interpretive dance.

Face it, the rules that applied back then simply don't anymore. Not in any meaningful way. Our parents, leaders, and corporate elite  haven't informed us that the rules have changed. Partially from ignorance.   But also, out of malice.

Job applications have certainly not changed for the better. They are, in all honestly, a hopeless  bureaucracy,designed to inhibit, deter and prevent you from getting a job.

In my father's day, you could walk in, ask for a job, and get one, or told to get lost. And, if so rebuffed,  you'd head down one door.  "Hitting the pavement" was the euphemism for what you actually did.   Now you apply on  for Internet websites, press submit. Answer 400 questions about your personality. And though there are no right answers, clearly I answer them wrong because I never get a call back. i just send my application into the either.

And call on an application? They don't really do that anymore. They will call you.

Sure they will. 

The worst so far, Qdoba. Do you really need to ask 300 questions. I go to Qdoba frequently, and the biggest question I have is: Can you find someone who can actually roll a borking burrito? fire the people who make those long personality tests, use that money to bus your burrito rollers to La Bamba for a day.

McDonald's was only slightly less aggravating. They ask a series of questions and you choose the question that most reflects your views. These are the same questions.  For example

"I am a hard worker" vs "I like to watch butterflies fly into my bosses nose." 

"OK" I clicked the former - though my boss has nose hairs you could land Apache gunships on.

"I am a lazy good-for-nothing slacker"  vs  "I eat baby dolphins because I hate life."

So now what?  Do I contradict myself or do I make Jack-the-ripper look like a children's educator?
Sure, it's a bit of hyperbole, but it still aggravates me. What does any of this have to do with pressing burgers and dropping fries in hot oil? 

I'll tell you what, I ain't no slacker. Baby dolphins be damned. 



Sparkfire kindly posted this  graphic. I know it's bogus  when it talks about farmers. "No Job Hunt. No Career improvement."


Nonsense. Farmer is one of the most important jobs. The plight of the farmer was not one of improvement, it was about the poor economic and political policies. Yes, being a feudal serf might have sucked. But barring disaster, a skilled farmer lived quite a good life in the US.

And besides, in this hyper-corporate project-based, intern-serfdom world. Maybe a stable job with consistent pay is just the thing we need. 

I tell you Zach Weiner is positively prophetic. I suspect he has a lot of Millennial friends less-than-employed. 

We are reaching the existential crisis of the Job Market.  On one hand, we have a a bunch of slack-jawed sociopaths babbling about "returns on investments", "10 percent improvement in process efficacy" and "item action productivity", on the other, we have an overabundance labor jobs (replaced by automation) and service jobs "not meant to be a living wage." On the third, yes, third hand, we have an ever-swelling, leviathan-like government bureaucracy that exists to leech off the low- and moderately-waged and make serfs of those at the bottom. And the fourth hand we have people who, by virtue of illness, disability, or plain orn'riness, refuse to have anything to do with this nonsense.

Yes, the current job market is basically a 4-armed tentacled monster. In my nightmares it has Newt Gingrich and Barack Obama's face, melded like a sick love child.

And it's not like the basic rules have changed. So why the horse and pony show? 

The massive tentacled beast destroying or economic possibilities does have some vestigial arms - farmers (often automated), medical technicians (rapidly becoming educated button mashers), the arts. Things that were, or are, still valued for producing. But the system doesn't like those arms. Bankers making money on bailouts hate to hear that maybe the guy that grows pumpkins is doing more for the country. At least the farmer isn't giving money to people who hate the US. 

At least you can become a plumber or tradesman, with years of schooling and byzantine apprenticeships.

The markets are being made to keep people out.

But that's another blog post (or two, if I talk about neo-cottage revolutions). I'm losing my point today. Forgive me.

If you are, or were, looking for a job in an old way, you are right-borked. Unless you know somebody. And I am not even kidding. 

That McDonald's job? I have applied at McDonald's before. That specific McDonald's, for a soul-sucking mcjob that I can work around my desire to not actually do that job. Something that lets me pretend that I will be an artist some day.

They have ignored my application, but a caseworker of mine works with  and knows the manager there. And he says he will hook me up.

Networking required for a "not a livable wage" job. This is madness. Absolute madness. Regulation and litigation have made companies terrified of just giving a job.

If I weren't already a little on the batshit side, this would be enough to make me so. 

If you can't talk to people and hob knob, you might as well enjoy mopping floors. It's not like starting a business is much an option. Even in the blog post above, he needed way more money than he new. if you are in poverty, how are you going to manage that?

Remember when we were told to get a good job and not to be an artist? Remember that? I sure as hell do.

That was before Patreon and Kickstarter made fools of all of us, except the damn fools that followed their dreams. It's a new world, and prescient as I might have been, I was sure dumb on that account.  

Jobs don't work.

Marco's update: Apparently my legend grows, even those who loathed me (except for the antagonist) say they miss me. I am touched by the sentiment, but sadly sentiment doesn't pay the rent(iment). I am still planning a crowd funding and to add a donation/buy stuff button as soon as I can figure out a product or service other than "miserably bad advice", "swear word portmanteaus", and "anti-corporate screeds."  Hell, I bet I could raise about 50 dollars just for the service of "shutting my mouth." 

I looked back at my work experience, and I have settled all previous jobs into two categories: "Useless Insanity" and "Unskilled Idiocy." I imagine that I am not the only person to categorize so, nor the first to realize the futility of work. My talent for miscreance, and the words of Michael Ventura, Alan Watts (or read the transcript) ,and Harlan Ellison have left me bereft of job morale.

Why, in that video by Alan Watts, he echoes my sentiment - or perhaps I echo his:

But if you do a job, if you do a job with the sole purpose of making money, you are absurd.

He suggests that when we do so, we begin to equate money with happiness. I can't argue, or won't, rather. I don't want utilize my talent for opposition today

My work has been as absurd as Alan Watts suggests. I was taught, rather harshly, that I must have a job. That my talents were not in fast food or factory, that I have a natural savant-like idiocy when it comes to schedules, rules, and policies. A trained monkey with a severe bleeding head injury can follow rules that I find as alien and incomprehensible as Martian mating rituals.

Actually, given my lewdness, I suspect extraterrestrial sex makes more sense to me. 

I was raised to work jobs. I had to have a job, according to my father. I don't blame my father completely. His father was raised on German work ethic and an industrial-revolution perspective of the world. My father would pull apart guns at age six and draw each part, then put them back together flawlessly. And when he performed this miracle, his father and mother told him that it was "nice" , but he ought get a job in a factory.

Lamentable. If a child showed such precociousness today, his parents would encourage him to study math and become an engineer.

My father said the same thing, like a mantra. You have to have a job. You have to have a job. You have to have a job.

And so I spent much of my time working as call center tech support, my stock and "trade". This trade constitutes being yelled at, screeched at, cried at,  for 40 hours a week, but for the blissful two hours a month when we were  droned at or yelled by our manager about our metrics.

No call center I worked for scored me on customer satisfaction. On the contrary, they scored me negatively if I spent the time to actually help the customer.   I was told at TDS Telecom that despite having more "Kudos" (compliments from customers) than other technicians, if I didn't lower my call times I would be fired.

Let that ruminate in your head. A kudos required extra work from the customer, and generally meant they were satisfied beyond mere resolution. TDS threatened to terminate me for helping customers. 


But that doesn't matter. What matters is call times. If your call takes longer than 6 minutes, you are doing your job wrong. Hang up on the customer - so long as they don't call back - and the managers are happy. Avoid helping the customer and - so long as the customer doesn't complain - call centers are happy. 

And if we are being honest, companies placed "First Call Resolution" as a metric only because agents hung up on customers to meet call length metrics.It's hard to fix someone's error in six minutes when you spend two of those minutes gathering required information and another two trying get them to find the start button.

Absurd, absurd, absurd.  Insanity. Put together unreasonable expectations and then get angry when people cannot meet them. That is the nature of corporate jobs.

I don't have a particularly good answer - I have some, but that will have to wait for another blog post.

If you want to read more, or see videos of these screeds, don't be afraid to subscribe, share on Facebook, on Twitter, or +1 on Google.


Marco's update part II: As I typed this, a  coworker texted me that the blow-job-enjoying manager told the antagonistic coworker to eat a bag of dicks as well. But he did it when they were punched out (and away from the eyes of corporate). Marco's me fired for breaking the illusion of cog-like perfection and order Frank -er, my manager, had cultivated. 
Don't send them hate mail. Send me 5 dollar donation I receive I will mail them a drawing of a bag of dicks. A dollar donation means I'll spent more than 30 seconds proofreading.Or, actually proofread.

The Paradox of Wages (Walmart and Middle Class)

Hello, Friends!

I promised that I would write more polemics in the vernacular to which I am accustomed . Currently my job at The Mineshaft has me on an incredibly tight schedule. So expect at least one post a week.

Last week  I posted a maudlin mopey post. Don't read it, kiddos. I reeled on painkillers and bad training. My hands slapped, my ego bruised, and my morale spinning in the can from training. Made more in tips than my bitch of a trainer. That may be why she was so pissy.

I read this post the other day about raising the minimum wage. The argument from both sides can be summed up thus (Paraphrase):

Pro-wage-hike: More disposable income means more money to spend and more money through the sluices!
Anti-wage-hike: Suck my fat capitalist dick.

OK, that's not actually how the conversation goes. The wage hike supporters (towards which I lean) basically lean on one argument with two premises. More money in the hands of the average spender means more money over all, and it won't cost that much to raise wages.

This is common sense - a man (or woman) can only enjoy so many yachts, have so many parties, and so many "escorts". Eventually the amount they can spend dries up. Mostly   Jesus. How many zeros?*

This is true of the commoner too. I can only spend so much on blow before I have to slow down, take a pill (a different pill) chillax and let my heart rate get below 200.

But, I need to point out, there are a lot more of us, the commoner, than them, the wealthy. And those parties may benefit a few people. Maybe they have a hundred or a thousand servants, but that money doesn't go through he sluices as nicely as giving everybody working for large corporations a fat check.

I am not completely on board with government mandated wage increases. I am a friendly anarcho-moderate, and while the government has done some good things, a cumbersome juggernaut is she. So I am always cautious with regards to it's movements. But what else can we do? The corporations will be dickbags. Not even good business men, but actual shortsighted cuntnuggets.

I hate when we have to make laws to protect people from Dickbags, but see below.

Anti-wagers contend that this will cause businesses to offer less jobs, and fire people and generally continue to fuck up the economy like giant dickbags.  Truth is that most of the huge corporations could probably handled the loss in income. It's not that much. Sell a yacht or two.

This PDF happily explains what would happen with an increase to $12 an hour. Dick-all, really. Big corporations like Walmart and Target would not feel much of a pinch, nor would the consumer.
If wages increased 6 grand a year, but costs go up 1500 smackers similarly, that means the average consumer makes out to the tune of $4500 dollars a year.

Not too shabby. And according to these leftist folks there will be no affects on business. They also suggest rose-colored glasses, because they seem to forget the rule of business 101*.

BUT, my dear readers, this is all from progressive (pinko-commie) writers. Surely the conservative view can give us the "fair and balanced" style you expect from me.  So I did some research.

They say: Fuck you, worker. Dance for your dimes!
The third article above discusses it.
Some fuckwit named Mark Wilson  says that "fringe benefits" might be curtailed by a raised wage.

To him I ask: "What "fringe benefits?" Like, what benefits would be taken from someone? Insurance? Not fringe. Half-off burgers? Not a big deal for my last job. And most box stores don't give you that much of a discount.

Let's say Walmart gives you 10% off your own purchases. In order for you to make out the same as a wage hike (that hypothetical 4500 bucks) you'd need to spend 45 thousand dollars there in a year (while making, for those bad at math, an average wage of 15-20 grand a year). . At the Mineshaft I'd have to eat there for 1500 meals a year.

No wonder poor people have bad credit and are obese. Look how we have to spend and eat to take advantage of our fringe benefits.

Yeah, OK. keep your 25 dollar gas cards at Christmas, you petty jizzstains, I'll take the raise, thank you very much.

Math, Mr. Wilson. Either you do math or you fucking don't.**
I mean, are you fucking serious?

I can almost  -almost see the argument that Smaller businesses may have to fire employees. Well, most of them pay a little better than minimum, and can be more choosy. I agree that a higher wage will make better employees think about taking the job. God knows that some of my employers could have done better picking anyone else and paying them more.

Regarding the argument that these are "not meant to sustain a living wage." Newsflash, dickweasel, they are.  I never planned to be a cuss-spitting gonzo commentator, but there you fucking go. I never wanted to be on the side of more laws. I am. They are. The middle class isn't moving up. Old folks are staying in their jobs longer. So where's a poor dickhead kid gonna go?

Nowhere. We are going nowhere.

And finally, let's look at the free market. "Let the free market handle wages." Yeah. Let's Fucking Do That. Except that it's cheaper to buy a politician than produce a better product. Can't compete? Have Uncle Sam wag their finger at your opponent.

And don't get me started on cheap entertainment and expensive consumable goods. Christ. That's a great way to keep us down.

It's all shit, my friends. The song and dance of Walmart is just a mummer's show. They are spending more than they pay out to keep wages right where they are.

The rich are in bed with civil servants. Democracy is dead to the almighty dolla'. It's just aristocrats partying on top.

Do your best. And if you are one of those rich fucks at the top, remember, many of you didn't get there by yourself. You worked, sure, but you also had help. Mentors, friends, lucky breaks that made your work worthwhile.  Remember that. Mentor and befriend, and occasionally give in on fiscal policy.

Because as the French Nobility learned, it's awful hard to spend your money when you're dead.


* Dickbaggery.
** Yes, those numbers may be massaged.

A Good Fit..(Idle Morose Mobo Musings).

I happened to go back and reread this blog post.  I realize most of my readers already know, via various sources that I am no longer a Mobo. I am tenant, temporarily resigned to a couch in the middle of no-fuck-where.

Aside from cruising for spelling errors and typos, of which, there are many. I shall endeavor to not continue with errors. My hands yearn to be free of your bourgeois rules of spelling! Occupy my hands! Grammar is the tool of the one-percent!

Enough frivolity, my kids. Recently I have had a spat of bad luck Job-wise. Those who know me might ask me to edit the recently out of it.

Jobs and I do not get along.

Let's be honest. Jobs seem to have a problem. Jobs are demanding, tedious,a bore at parties, and until recently, not really good with the ladies. Jobs are dirty, smell of various substances, and are prone to become injurious.

Few people are besties with a job.

I myself wonder often if I am just not cut out for a job. If by some perfect storm of genetics, upbringing, and ill luck that leaves me less-than-qualified for most jobs.  I

I self-indulgently like to think that the Peter Principle has something to do with it, that I am so inept at the lower level jobs because I am meant to do a higher job. Perhaps that is true.

My current job, which is my...40th? since I started working at 14, has got me a little down, kiddos. I seem happier and more productive when I am unemployed. regardless, I have spent so much time under and un-employed that the one thing a job gets you (money) holds little appeal to me.

Somewhere, I imagine, when I close my eyes, there is a culture that exists wherein work is not nonsense jobs, but actual, worthwhile work. Perhaps a tribe that has yet to discover exploitative capitalism*


 I will be writing more on the subject of shit jobs and the shit that comes with them, but I have to go to bed.
.

*Exploitative, not enlightened...

Beans, beans, They're good for your heart.

Quick update friends!

Food. We've taken care of the most important part of living in your car. That is Internet. Now we must tackle the next struggle. Food and water.

Right now, I have a modest income, so food is not quite the problem it will be in a few months. But without a kitchen, cooking becomes problematic.
 If well prepared for your adventure, you can purchase a camp stove or create a solar oven. Lacking the funds or the space for one, you are going to have to improvise.

If you are lucky, you'll have a friend like Jen who will let you use her kitchen.  Eating healthy becomes a little easier of you can grab some dry beans and maybe a little rice, drop it in a  slow cooker, and chow down 8 hours later. By Bean meal works out to 3 dollars a day and will keep you stupid full. It's healthy, vegan, and keeps your insulin from spiking - a plus for those of us with blood sugar issues.

Beans, my friend.. If you can eat them, bully for you. You win. No, it's not the fanciest of grub. But you gave up fancy when you gave up your address.

Now, things get trickier if you can't use a kitchen and don't have a way to cook.  You have to eat prepared foods. This can get expensive. And if you were made of money, you'd have that address.

Fast food is right out. Don't even think about it. it's poor nutritional value and excess calories will make you fat and tired. And bulking doesn't make it easier to sleep in your car.

Beans are your friend again, and so is Walmart. Is there anything these two can't accomplish (besides providing well-paying jobs)?

A bowl and a spoon and a 75 cent can of beans. If you make one meal of yours a can of pre-cooked beans, it will give you protein and fiber and keep you full. Avoid baked beans and go straight for the black beans. Add a little chili powder and voila!

Other things to eat are Deli meats, Pepperoni, and Sardines. When choosing prepared meats, make sure to keep your macros. Keto, for example, requires minimum protein, maximum carbohydrates, and some fat. You want to look for a solid calorie to price ratio. Spam, for example, is not that great for the price. Go for sardines instead. On slow carb, be careful how much sugar is in your foods. And don't be afraid to pick up a  bag of baby carrots on either. Yeah, they are high in sugar and carbs as vegetables go, but you cannot beat them for fullness factor. I also love raw broccoli and spinach. Just like dieting, continued fullness is important.   If you desire fruit, it's actually not that expensive to add an apple or a nectarine.

Eating prepped food will cost you between 5-10 dollars a day, depending on your dietary requirements. Avoid chips, candy, and prepared "junk food" snacks. They are actually not as inexpensive as you think, and they won't provide nutrition.


In the future we shall discuss visiting other cities, and busking. I spoke my friend JP, who's traveled this way, He speaks of the incredible generosity of people. I have experienced some of this, but I do not share his worldview. I have trouble asking for things (Which is 50% of getting things).  Hopefully I can break that limiting worldview and try something new.

Adventures of a Middle Class Mobo

Hello Again!

My plan was to write more often. I have not. Dear readers, I have done you a disservice. I throw myself upon my lappy! I prostrate myself for your forgiveness.

Or perhaps I just sip my large black coffee.

I have pushed my other projects back to tell you about my latest adventure. I am excited to say that I am a Mobile Hobo, or "Mobo". I confess that i do love that term. I cannot claim credit for it's invention. My friend Don told me it. No idea where he got it.

A Mobile hobo is a hobo who has a car. If we want to get pedantic, a hobo is a wandering worker, car or no. I am actually living the life of a tramp or a bum. Unfortunately, trying to combine "mobile" with tramp or bum makes me sound like a demented octogenarian tapioca junkie. M'tramp. M'bumramp. Tramampum...Mobum.

Trump? No. That would imply I have money to not look like a hobo, but still choose to for reasons of toupee.

Speaking of dressing up. My friend Jes (read her blog here) is a master fashionista.  She knows her stuff, and is a master deal finder. Want to look good on the cheap. She can help. She says I would look good in Taupe. I trust her. However, I find the name incredibly vulgar.

Taupe. Say it. Taupe.

So when I lose these last "few" (80) clinging pounds, I shall get something Taupe.

Back to the topic. I am a bum, at least temporarily. I shall go into my justifications in future blog posts, but for the time being I want to give a few first impressions.

1) Early to bed and early to rise, more or less.
I worked out hard yesterday.  I walked for an hour, then I did the Arc trainer, then I lifted. I was beat to hell. But I started at 10:30 pm and finished my post-workout shower around 2. Getting to bed that late normally isn't a problem. It usually takes me about a half an hour for me to get to sleep, more in the car. Suddenly it's 5:30 am and light's shining in. I don't want to get too much sun..So that means moving indoors. I got 3 hours of sleep last night.
I'm a little hinky

2) Walmart becomes your friend.
I slept in the parking lot of a local Walmart. The advantage of Walmart is the parking lot is huge. There are plenty of empty spaces to park in. You look exactly like any of the drones working. One person parked right next to me. they either didn't see me or didn't care. And more importantly, when morning comes you can head into the bathroom quickly and take care of business.

3) Kill the lights and put it in neutral...well..park, actually.
These are what will get to you. The lamps in a lot are pretty bright. This discourages crime, but makes sleeping difficult. I solved this by hanging blankets as makeshift curtains. It has the added effect of obscuring me from the curious.   Always hit the parking break

4) Internets
We cannot, in this day and age, live without our Cheezeburger Cats. Here is my cursory exploration of local internets.

Starbucks:  Internet Speed is good, but it's costly to sit there (about 3 bucks a day). Second best hours (6am to 10pm) and if you go late at night they sometimes give you food they would otherwise throw away.

McD's:   Where I write this. Only a dollar for a soda pop or a coffee. Sit all day. Longest hours (5:30 until Midnight). Internet is woefully slow. Especially if some douche-canoe is HOGGING ALL THE BANDWIDTH. I'M LOOKING AT YOU, KID WITH THE HEADPHONES! QUIT YOUR YOUTUBINATING AND STOP CLOGGING MY WEBPIPE!

Library: Shortest Hours (10am to 5pm). Comparable to Starbucks. Cheapest (FREE).

Any other locations that you know of? Send me a line.

5) It's not so bad.
As long as you have a moderate size car, you can sleep pretty well. I have to sleep sitting up - mostly because I normally sleep on my stomach, and until I get a van, that's not an option. So I just sit up on a bank of pillows and stretch my legs out. But it's cozy and so far I am lucky to have cool evenings, few insects, and zero . We shall see if this continues.

Well, that's it so far. If you liek this, then like it, or follow me. In the future I shall discuss other strategies for going "off grid". Most notably food and income.  How do you maintain a diet? Can you live on canned beans alone? Gluten free and Vegan options?

Also, I added to the list of books here