Bivouac

So I'm kind of starting to like this homeless thing. It's like camping, or really, more like a bivouac (one definition is a nest constructed out of the own worker ant's bodies). I'm making a nest out of the carcasses of my own belief system.

The worst part is the mosquitos, then no outlet to plug in my coffee maker, then the heat. Now I'm a pretty resourceful guy, and I bet, now that I've identified my major stresses, I can make things a little better. At least concerning the first two. The heat is a fact of life in the daytime in August in Miami, just like tropical storms, one more stressor. It's not the heat exactly, I drink A LOT of water, and wear a hat when I walk more than three blocks in the sun. As an aside, symptoms of dehydration; painful and dark, infrequent, urination. The stress is the sweating and the accompanying wet smell that can get offensive after you've worn the same shorts for three or four days. (I change underwear frequently, and bathe in some way everyday at least once, whether I need it or not :) . So let's see... more shorts, some very light weight sleeping clothes, and more work clothing because doing laundry is something I don't have a lot of time to do, and I'm sure not going to pay someone else to do it.

Now I'm not only working seven days a week, four of them are doubles, and one of those is a triple! Its not as bad as it sounds though, because, one, I'm not on the clock, so I can take off anytime, and two, I am a great hospitality manager, so I know when I can get away with being gone for a couple hours to nap without really being missed. Plus, its not like I can really sit in the air conditioning, cook a meal with a bottle of wine, and watch a movie. Yesterday I was trying to figure out what I could do in the evenings... making money seems like a pretty good idea, so why not work if I can? I am here to buy a sailboat, then build my cruising kitty, then take off. Why should I waste half the day?

Today I left after my bus shift, shaved at work (the hotel restroom, back wheelchair accessible stall with a sink), went to the store and bought my food and coffee, went to the beach, swam, rinsed and shampoo'd in fresh water shower at the beach, ate, had coffee and a couple cigarettes, then back to work, brushed teeth, made more money as a waiter (took a 12 top because no one there knew how to it... hee hee hee, thank you Mama Lucia), and am now having a couple beers at the hostel ('cause they're cheap here and I can talk or not) while I write to my blog. The break took two hours and 19 minutes, refreshed me, and only about four tables came while I was gone.

So like I said, I'm starting to dig not having to pay rent or a mortgage. The rain is kind of a pain, but having constant access to satelite images makes it pretty easy to avoid getting soaked. My love life is going nowhere, but looking back on my life, I've often limited acting on my dreams to stay with the women I've been with. Not sure that's an accurate assessment, I may need to revisit that. If I can find a physical place to bivouac (make an encampment), I might just stay "homeless" for awhile. But you know what? Home is where you hang your hat. Right now my hat is in my truck. One more beer for some quiet time, maybe some conversation, and I'm going to sleep.