Looking at a list of unanswered questions people have sent me, I couldn’t find a single reasonable thread that united any of them, save the fact that they all concern my truckly ways. They’re all pretty much orthogonal in the N-dimensional space that truck questions occupy. Let’s get to them.

What does your family think of your living situation?

I’ve kinda been doing my own thing since I was 15 or 16, and my family sort of accepts that I’ll probably figure out something that works for me. That said, they naturally thought I was insane (and still likely do) when I told them about my truck idea, well over a year ago at this point. The more I explained it to them, the more I was able to convince them that I had some semblance of an idea what I was doing, for better or worse. So in short: they probably think I’m crazy, but they’re impressed I haven’t managed to burn the truck to the ground yet and/or get myself Very Arrested™.

It’s been a while since my last post, and a lot has happened since then. I’ve hit my one-year truckiversary, surpassed $15,000 in monopoly money savings, and paid off the remainder of my student loans. Expect posts for these things in the coming weeks. As for my absence: I’ve been dedicating the majority of my free time to building an app for a small nonprofit to help Syrian refugees apply for scholarships. I like to think it’s a worthy enough cause to excuse my tardiness and general inability to produce new blog content. Oh, and my laptop unceremoniously died on me. With that out of the way, onwards to the (lean) meat of the post.

It’s been a while since I last lambasted any of the ideals that keep the American Economic Engine™ chuggin’ along. I’m talkin’ about things like “Exceptionalism”, “Overconsumption”, “Materialism”, and any other ‑isms and ‑umptions you want to throw into the mix. Given my relative reticence on the topic, I thought it was high time I took some pot shots at Uncle Sam. Subsequently, I’ve spent a long time staring at this blank expanse of screen, musing over what edgy and Forced Witticisms™ I can put here. Strangely enough, nothing I put down feels particularly pleasing, probably because I don’t think I have anything useful to say on the matter.

Student loan debt is, uh…a problem in the good ole US ^of A, to say the least. It has passed credit cards for the number two spot on the list of “biggest things holding American wallets hostage,” behind only mortgages at this point. When millennials wake up in a cold sweat in the dead of night, filled with a deep, overwhelming, and existential sense of dread, it’s probably because student loans are haunting their dreams. Okay, hopefully it’s not that bad, but it’s no wonder student loans get a bad rap, with millions of The Indebted™ buckling in for the long haul, getting ready to work and whittle at the loans for the next decade (or more).

Before I say anything else, let me be clear: this isn’t me making up some spooky story, this actually happened to me this morning, Monday August 1st, at 6 am.

I had a series of strange dreams about spies and nuclear war last night. Pretty dramatic, but I have weird dreams all the time. The problem is that things got weirder after I woke up. First, I noticed a bitter taste in my mouth that I have no explanation for. I ate nothing strange last night and washed up using the same products I’ve been using for as long as I care to remember. That’s not a big deal though. What is a big deal is this: