I don't know the first fucking thing about San Antonio. The only thing I know is that there is a book sale tomorrow. When I don't know anything, I park at the Walmart. That takes the least planning. They have beer with Clamato, and you don't have to think.
I arrived late and cracked a cold can. I put food on the stove. Lentils and quinoa. I've never seen tortillas so happy. We all make an excellent group.
Sleep was elusive. I would have slept soundly, except for the noise. *BEEP, BEEP*
"When in the fuck," I wondered "will they ever get that fucking equipment in place?"
Eventually, I had to investigate. It was two o'clock in the morning, and there was construction. A bucket lift had an alarm. The alarm beeped intermittently and often. There was no rhythm, and after an hour or so, the sound began to pierce my bones.
Q: Am I happy to be alive?
A: Sure I am.
Q: Should you live in a van?
A: Why not.