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$0 Costs 0 Friends, my life as a Silicon Valley Software Engineer living in a car

Living in My Car: A Journey of Freedom and Reflection

The rain pounds relentlessly on the roof of my car at 5 a.m., a sound so loud it’s impossible to ignore. I woke up five or six times last night, each time startled by the downpour. The weather forecast predicts three more days of this, and sleeping in my car is proving to be a challenge. I park on the street every night, and finding a safe spot is no small feat. It’s like a part-time job—scouting locations, driving around for an hour each evening, searching for quiet residential areas with trees or high fences for privacy. I’ve even made a list to keep track of my favorite spots. But this effort pays off in a way I never expected: my monthly expenses are now practically zero.

I came to California chasing sunshine, but the frequent rain has caught me off guard. Still, I’m adapting. I get up early, around 5 or 6 a.m., and head to the office to start my day. Work provides structure—free food Monday through Friday, a gym with showers, and a place to feel productive. On weekends, I keep it simple: some fruit, maybe a day of fasting. I’ve even got a movie pass, and my dog Halo and I catch a film every week. Slowly, living in my car has become a routine, and I’ve found a strange kind of comfort in it.

But this lifestyle didn’t come from nowhere. Two years ago, I was living a very different life in Vancouver—an ocean-view apartment, 5-star resort vacations, and VIP seats at games and concerts. My weekends were a whirlwind of what I thought was “fancy.” But then I fell seriously ill, so sick I almost didn’t make it. That brush with mortality forced me to hit pause and question everything. What was I chasing? Despite the glamour, I was living paycheck to paycheck, trapped in an endless cycle of earning and spending. I realized the goal of my life wasn’t about money—it was about freedom.

Now, I’m testing how sustainable this car-dwelling lifestyle can be. So far, it feels surprisingly manageable. I don’t need much: food from work, a place to shower, and a safe spot to park. But there’s one thing I haven’t quite figured out—making friends. I’ve been at this office for two months, and I’m still eating alone most days. I’ve tried setting up lunches with coworkers, but it’s been disappointing. One day, a colleague canceled at the last minute, citing illness, but I wished she’d let me know earlier. Another time, a guy suggested lunch but never followed through. It’s not just the cancellations—it’s the lack of communication. I have expectations, maybe too high, for people to confirm plans or reach out proactively. It makes me wonder if I’m the problem or if this is just how things are.

I don’t mind dining alone, but sometimes I crave a simple, “How’s your day?” As Christmas approaches, the sparkling lights on the streets stir something in me. I still haven’t made friends here, and I don’t have a traditional home. It’s emotional, but I try not to overthink it. Living in my car has stripped away the excess, forcing me to confront what truly matters. It’s not the money or the status I once chased—it’s the freedom to live on my terms and the hope of finding connection, even if it’s just one person asking about my day.

This journey is far from perfect, but it’s mine. And for now, I’m holding on to see how far it takes me.

#Innovation #Leadership #Entrepreneurship #DigitalMarketing #Technology #Career #Networking #Business #Motivation #FutureOfWork

From Rent to Freedom: How to Build Your Tiny Home & Live Off-Grid, Paperback, Large Print, March 14, 2025

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