Every so often, I like to apply a simple Litmus test to my life to help me figure out a couple things. The test has a single question, and the way I answer this question tells me a lot about how reasonable of a person I’m being, and if I’m living in a sustainable way. The questions is this:

If everyone acted the way I’m acting, would it still work?

As I’ve mentioned before, I drove buses in a past life (read: two months ago). That meant that in Massachusetts, I had a Commercial Driver’s License. The bus company that I had worked for over the course of the past four years graciously trained their drivers and paid them, but in the Real World™, obtaining a CDL can be super expensive. Most driving school websites don’t list their prices, but this one has a quote of $225 for a 2-hour private lesson. Considering you need ~50 hours of instruction and driving experience to take the test (which is another $300 on that site), that puts the cost of a CDL at over $5,000. But why am I talking about the price of a CDL? Well initially, I was worried that I’d need one to drive my box truck legally, then after a bit of research in the California CDL Handbook, I found that:

I occasionally mention how glad I am that I’m able to live the way I do, but it’s definitely not for everyone. In fact, the reason I’m able to do this is mainly because of the benefits afforded to me by the company I work at. Not that I expect many people are envious of my lifestyle, but for all those aspiring to live out of some type of vehicle, here is a list of hard requirements, collected through experience and in no particular order, that your life should possess before you consider trying to live in a box truck.

Something I noticed when I first bought this truck was that it had a special permit in it. A special permit issued by the “Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration”, authorizing it to carry…something? I’m not actually sure what this truck was used for prior to my purchase, some sort of commercial activity, and I know for a fact that it started it’s life as a simple Budget truck. Call it stubbornness or naivety, but I’m not particularly interested in finding out what it actually was carrying. I’ve lived here a month with no adverse effects, and I’ve even noted my improved sleeping abilities. Who knows, maybe my ability to sleep is from toxic fumes knocking me out every night, or maybe one morning I’ll wake up and all my hair has fallen out and I’ll have developed some new, baffling form of respiratory cancer. That would be an interesting one to explain to a doctor. Best case scenario, the truck was carrying radioactive waste and my exposure is slowly giving me super powers. Worst case scenario, the truck was carrying radioactive waste and my exposure is slowly turning me into a character from The Hills Have Eyes.

Unfortunately, I’m not talking about some more RV/Hippie Van/Truck neighbors.

No matter how well you plan out things, life always has a way of throwing little things at you to make sure you’re still paying attention. For the past week, life has been throwing the sound of jackhammers in my direction. It makes perfect sense that construction crews would work at night, when normal human beings aren’t at work and getting in their way, but I certainly was not expecting the parking lot I call home to be subjected to such perils. Like, they’re actually tearing up 10’ by 10’ sections at a time, something to do with pipes or electricity or whatnot. I’m a computer systems engineer, not a mechanical engineer, I have no idea how any of this stuff works. It makes me think back to when I was considering getting soundproofing installed by that Happy Vans company in San Jose. It’s still not really an issue, the truck actually does a surprisingly good job of blocking it out, and I haven’t had any trouble falling asleep. Still, just goes to show you that there will always be something, whether it’s crows, radioactive waste, or jackhammers.