separation anxiety creeps in, mildly but noticeably now that i'm not sleeping in the van. don't get me wrong, i'm enjoying the bathtub, the full length mirror, and the refrigerator, but i no longer feel like a kid in a fort. i feel like a displaced adult. i am in between lives. people have asked me where i'm from, it's a longer answer than they've signed up for. they ask me where i live, same thing--do they mean today? or last week? or next month? any yet i can't just say i live in my van and i'm only passing through because that's not exactly accurate either.
my friend who is already in the caribbean is not having such a great time. he says there is no work there yet, and he isn't comfortable committing to an island by renting there until he gets a job. i wonder if he'll decide to leave before i get there. i don't really care, we are not inextricably linked, but it will make things different for me. he says all the jobs start in early november which is good for me, but i wonder what i'll do for housing if he's not there. i wish i could just take my van! i don't want to leave it. my little shell to protect me from the world of high rent and geographical stagnation. oh, what's a vandweller to do? of course, i haven't stepped on the plane yet, so there is room for negotiation. will i or won't i? the great part is--i'm fine either way, i'm really unattached to the outcome. as long as i get to have an adventure in warmth this winter, i don't care how i get there, by plane, by boat, by van, or by mule.
i do know one thing. whether i do or not, i still WANT to live in my van.
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