Stress. Everyone is all stressed out. Everyone feels stuck. Not
enough income; no idea how to make more. We have an apartment that has
become high on traffic and low on privacy and comfort. It's time to make
tracks, but to where? I don't want to pay more in rent, and I abhor the
idea of signing a lease and paying for utilities if I can avoid it.
I'm
making slow plans to build a tiny house. It takes some imagination. Not
the house itself - that can be a rather cookie-cutter and
straightforward construction - but having faith that you'll find a
person willing to let you park it on their land. You have to imagine
that working out, and you have to have faith that the crapshoot will
lead to a better life.
I'm one for rolling the dice. It looks like a
good move, and if I fail, I still won't have lost too much to manage.
That's my kind of gamble. So calm down, dear. This isn't a big deal.
It's an odd deal, but not a bad one. No matter what, we'll all go on
living like the privileged Americans we've always been. So lets get our
groceries and smoke our pot. Leave the housing to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment