The Beginning

I'm typing this here, perched on my bed in my little rented room with no windows (but a skylight) in San Francisco, CA. I live in Ingleside so it's always foggy, even on the rare days that the sun warms the rest of the city. It's late August, and the nighttime air occasionally drifts down upon me, reminding me the city's warmest time is yet to come. And I think of the ocean nearby. If it's a clear day, all I have to do is walk up or down Faxon to the nearest cross street, and look for where the bright blue sky meets the sparkling darker blue water. I feel grounded when I know where the ocean is, when I can see it, and feel it. The one perk about Ingleside is that I can smell the ocean on clear days. That very specific salty-sticky breeze reminds me that I am human, and I am standing on the planet Earth. And I feel grounded.

But right now, feeling grounded is more like feeling run into the ground. The weight of rent due, student loan payments, and the high cost of living and eating and shopping and doing anything at all in the city is too much to bear. I'm not cut out for regular work. And I'm not cut out for paying rent.
SO. I've recently come to the realization that I need to build myself a tiny house on wheels. It's going to resemble this:

(Photo Credit: Tammy Strobel)

Everything is pointing me toward designing, building and living in my own tiny home. I'm obsessed with home improvement, I'm a highly sensitive person, I'm extremely particular about how I like things, and I hate moving but I love to explore. With the money that I'll save on rent I'll pay toward my student loan debt, and with the time I'll have by not working 5 days a week I'll be able to indulge in all my art projects, venture away into the world, or quietly sit at home while the world goes on around me.

I've bought plans from Tumbleweed Tiny House Company and I took their workshop on how to build one in case you're like me and have no idea where to start.
I'm. So. Excited.