The realities of living tiny: I gave up

I’ve talked about the realities of living tiny. I’ve shared how little storage I have, I’ve written about how hard it is to escape the noise of Sunshine at sleep, I’ve talked about efficiency….

I was making the bed yesterday, and I got to thinking about how much I’ve given up on in the last 7 or so years since we started living in this tiny little space.

Starting with the bed. I used to have the spare pillows stuffed in pillow shams on our bed. I sometimes had little throw pillows that served no purpose other than to irritate the hell out of Sunshine when it was time to go to sleep. The pillow shams are now stashed under the bed, and there are no spare pillows to go in them. There are no little throw pillows any more. Hell, I’m doing good to actually get the bed sort of made-up looking.

That’s not all I’ve given up on.

I’ve given up on the idea of “a place for everything and everything in its place” because THERE ARE NO PLACES IN THIS RV. The few places that we do have to put stuffs and things are filled with Sunshine’s hoard of practical shit we need to hoard in case the black helicopters come and society collapses. It’s not fair, but that’s what I live with because I’m the one willing to let things go to make space for the hoard.

I’ve given up on baking, on cooking anything that requires more than one pot, on keeping more than a few days worth of food in the fridge, on having easy access to kitchen things I need. In many ways, I’ve given up on ever feeling normal. It is not normal to have 2 full cabinets and 2 half cabinets to store the shit normal people need to kitchen. I’ve given up on stocking up on dried goods and canned goods. I’ve given up on having all the clutter out of sight.

I’ve even given up on having hot and cold water in a timely manner. RVs are so poorly insulated, and the supply line rests on top of the ground. In winter, it takes a considerable amount of time to get warm water to come out of the tap, even when the hot water is on full blast and the cold water is off. We have the opposite problem in the summer, because we have to wait on the boiling hot water in the hose that supplies us to empty of all the water that has been baking in the Texas heat for hours on end.

It’s not just the idea of a normal life inside my own home that I’ve given up on. It’s the idea of community. We’ve been here almost a year, and only Mr & Mrs B have joined us. There are far too many days when I’m the only soul on the property to deal with cats, chickens, compost, and the myriad of other tiny little things that have to be done on a daily basis out here. I spent most of last summer engaged in a one-woman war against the out-of-control grass.  I’m losing hope that the Kitchen Magician lady will ever move out here, considering she’s been “arriving any day now” for over six months. That guy that visited recently hasn’t shown up either. I’m started to think that nobody is ever coming to join us.

I’ve given up on the idea that we will be able to have a peaceful existence out here, as it seems we do nothing more than lurch from crisis to crisis. Sunshine and I thought that we were going to be able to devote some time to building our little house, but that got waylaid by the septic system crisis (which was just another crisis in a never-ending stream of crises). Now the fucking yard and driveway are too torn up for a concrete truck and we can’t use the tractor to fix it because “it will fuck up the yard worse” (which is kind of stupid at this point since I”m looking around thinking WHAT FUCKING YARD, WE JUST DUG IT ALL THE FUCK UP but whatever).

side note: as I compose this, Sunshine has driven up from work because he had forgotten some important parts of his scaffolding here at the house from where we unloaded it for some unknown reason about a week ago. See, we lurch from crisis to crisis around here.

Obviously I’m having a wonderful morning. I’m achy, I’m sick thanks to cedar pollen, I’m tired; and I’m over this mess leftover from our last crisis. I suppose I’ll get outside and grab a shovel to start repairing the damage. At least I’ll be able to add something to my to-done list, right?

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2 thoughts on “The realities of living tiny: I gave up

  1. In a show of solidarity I have packed up all of my baking utensils and pots and pans. I have a crockpot. My guy is obsessed with doing what y’all are doing. WE own land already but OU Boy is a city boy through and through so we are going to practice living tiny first.
    But don’t be surprised if a guy wearing an OU shirt shows up there! lol

    Liked by 1 person

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