At the beginning of this experiment, I wrote that one of my (painfully obvious) primary objectives was to embrace a lifestyle choosing personal freedom over material possessions. By completing the first phase of the experiment, I reached at least superficial achievement of that goal. There were specific details I outlined in order to get there. I cited having recently overworked myself in undesirable conditions, compromising available time and energy I'd have preferred to spend with my art or with loved ones or on the road. I talked about the subconscious urge to conform, spending above my means to portray and attract the beauty displayed regularly on advertisements everywhere. I detailed my orbit around an...
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At the beginning of this experiment, one of my primary goals was to avoid credit card debt. My financial situation had deteriorated in the weeks leading up to moving into the office, aggravated by an indefinite delay in receiving my income taxes due to identity theft, an organization-wide freeze of raises and bonuses at my work, and the arrival of a hefty insurance bill for an ankle surgery I'd had months earlier. Within a matter of weeks, I'd experienced a $5,000 swing for the worse in my finances. My refusal to go into credit card debt has been a lifelong goal. I don't believe in skating by on someone else's dime, particularly someone whose fine print is riddled with swindles and exclusions. I've never been...
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1. Rise from office floor at 7:15a.m. 2. Look groggily about the place. Decide you have time for a shower. 3. Remember it is last day of trial gym membership. 4. Appreciate yourself for small victory. 5. Drive to 24 Hour Fitness, locate free parking. 6. Note especially crisp morning air, its sharp contrast to yesterday’s swelter. 7. Work out. 8. Revel in liberty of free, accessible hot shower; soon you won’t appreciate it so much anymore. 9. Dry off. Always do this after a shower; walking around the office dripping wet only draws attention to oneself. Have some respect for yourself, this is America. 10. Recite Pledge of Allegiance under your breath while opening locker. 11. Ignore...
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It was a hot Sunday, the temperatures meddling in the high 80s with a callous easterly breeze. I had started to take note of the weather again more in the past few days, preparing myself for a move back into an apartment without climate control. Office-dwelling is a unique brand of homelessness that brings with it the comfort of a thermostat, something seen as more of an extravagance in the low-end rental market of Los Angeles. In summers past, I had spent many a day opening all five windows in my flat, anticipating the rush of the calming crosswind. Sleeping under behind desk required no such faith. Just a click of the digital controls. Today's reminder of impending move-in came courtesy of a voicemail from...
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I wrote a poem about Rob. It goes a little something like this: plumber at my door wants to get into apartment needs the key the key to the apartment you know to get into the apartment just like we discussed yesterday just like I discussed with Rob Rob, respect-er of repairmen Rob, cooperate-er of contracts Rob, agree-er of availability availability of the (now) only key to the apartment the (now) only key to a working toilet the (now) only key to my sanity Rob fucking Rob answer your phone, Rob make good on your word, Rob not even for me don't do it for me no, do it for the plumber for the punctual Plunger Proletariat witness this water closet wonder at work delight in his defecation...
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Woke up in car on side of road, next to stream. Nice morning. Clean air. Stretched. Listened to water trickle. Watched sun rise on mountainside. Gathered belongings and rode into town. Bought breakfast at local cafe. Sat. Ate. Breathed. Observed. Love has no pace. Drove home. To office. Subletter called, said night went well. Place was okay. Lifted my spirits. Highway driving: meditative. City driving: jolting. We choose this. No shower today. Too casual. Deliberate. Reading instead. Nap. Holding on to peace of mountain town. Sweet peace. -...
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To Noisey. I'll probably find another place. That's the text message I received when I returned from my hike. It was Rob. Sent at midnight. This was reinforced by a voicemail from the morning. And the suggestion was that he'd had a loud night and wanted to move out. It was 4:30pm when I received the message. I'd spend the last twelve hours hoofing it in the wilderness. My primary concerns--showering and eating a hot meal and finding a place to sleep--flooded my conscious focus. Fielding a tenant's complaint was the last thing I wanted to deal with. I decided to wait to call him until after I ate. I had told him I'd be away in the wilderness for the weekend, so I had a built-in excuse to stall. The best $5...
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After waking up in a tent at 3:00am, I gathered my belongings together and stretched before hitting the trail. It was a long hike, 22 miles in all, each mile revealing a fresh perspective of the Sierra Nevada range. These are the mountains that inspired the devotion of naturalist John Muir and motivated the creation of an unprecedented three national parks to protect its peaks. And they would be my backdrop for the day ahead. My hiking group was jovial--more than I generally care for at such an early hour--but this ultimately made for some great company. There were nearly 20 people in all, men and women from a variety of backgrounds, assembled through an online meetup group designed expressly for this...
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It was a lonely Friday night. After packing my belongings for the hike, I retired to my air mattress. Instead of a restful sleep, I spent hours fidgeting about in a half-awake reminiscence over times less austere. I imagined Shani, my ex-girlfriend, my most enigmatic and troubled love, emerging out of the shadows to propose reconciliation, to offer me a respite from my self-imposed solitude. Not that I wanted help; I didn't know what I wanted. But I liked the idea of her tenderly presenting an olive branch. Shani haunted me periodically, her memory still so alarmingly vivid, even after the passing of these seven months. Tonight, she haunted my foresleep, leaving me with waking nightmares of wounds reopened....
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Today marks the end of my first month as The Office Hobo. I've decided to celebrate by leaving town. Tomorrow, I plan on heading to the apartment early in the morning to prepare for Rob's arrival. Once we exchange the keys and the cash, I will head up to Inyo National Forest for a group hike in the mountains. It has been an eventful month, to say the least. I've successfully defined office-living as a viable form of home-free living, saving over $1,100 in rent while experiencing an uncharacteristically dizzying social presence. I have read two books and written enough material to considering developing one of my own. I've evaded the attention of my coworkers and neighbors, secured the recovery of my IRS tax...
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