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- Living in a Minivan; I Need to Fix My Life
The Plan (Or Lack Thereof)
Last night, I had one of those moments where I convinced myself that if I just got up early enough, I could fix my entire life in 24 hours. Spoiler alert: I don’t think I can fix my whole life in a day, but I figured I could at least tackle my disaster of a living space. My van, my home, had gotten so bad I could barely sleep in it. But before I could declutter my space, I needed to take care of myself. So, with a coffee in hand, I headed to the gym.
Gym Shenanigans
The gym started off fine. I hit the treadmill, feeling mildly accomplished, when a very enthusiastic man—possibly the manager—decided to strike up a conversation. “Hi, how are you? Working hard?” he asked. I mumbled something about being good and kept walking. Then he hit me with, “Are you from [Blank]?”—the location of my home gym. Apparently, my key card had ratted me out, displaying my info on his office screen. I wasn’t in the mood, especially since I’d gotten my period at 4:30 a.m. (great timing, body). Everything in my brain from the last two weeks? Fake. Hormonal chaos.
This guy, though, wouldn’t let up. He kept talking, even trying to pat my shoulder while I was mid-stride on the treadmill. I nearly tripped into the afterlife. Later, at the water fountain, he cornered me to apologize for “coming on too strong.” He was in his 60s, and I was just trying to fill my gallon jug in peace. When he asked if I was a “van lifer” because of my water jug, I knew I had to escape. Mascara on, crankiness in full swing, I bolted.
Laundry and Car Chaos
Next up: the laundromat. I deconstructed my bed to wash the essentials, tackling the mess in my van as best I could. Progress was slow but happening. Then, I headed to Walmart, hoping to get an oil change and tire rotation. Plot twist: this Walmart had no auto center. So, I took a nap instead. My to-do list was still glaring at me—vacuum the van, clean out the two-month-old chips under the seat, and deal with whatever was festering in the backseat “kitchen.” I didn’t want ants, so cleaning was non-negotiable.
Finding a coin-operated car wash in the Salt Lake Valley was a no-go, so I settled for a $12 full-service car wash just to use their vacuum. But luck struck: the wash lane was closed, meaning I could vacuum for free. Score one for my questionable morals.
Park Pit Stop
At a cute public park, I confirmed the bathrooms were open (crucial for van life) and got to work wiping down the van’s interior. I used some goopy cleaner for the crevices—a birthday gift that came in clutch—and tossed out trash. Then came the dreaded task: emptying the portable sink’s gray water container. It smelled bad. Into the park bathroom it went, poured into the toilet with a prayer.
The fridge was next. I’d let it go without power for days, so I braced for disaster. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a total loss. The cheese smelled okay, the carrots were fine, and nothing was moldy. I cleaned it out, dumped the trash, and found a working outlet at the park—a rare unicorn. I plugged in my devices, feeling like I’d hacked the system.
Finding a Place to Sleep
As the day wound down, I needed a spot to sleep. I’d planned to stay at the gym’s parking lot, which seemed camper-friendly, but after the manager’s awkward vibes, I couldn’t do it. What if he’d clocked my van? What if he was there in the morning? Nope. I considered a residential street but felt uneasy about parking in front of someone’s house. Respecting the locals matters to me.
Instead, I ended up on the side of a busy street with cars zooming by at 45 mph. It felt stealthy—not near anyone’s property—but I was 10 feet from the lane, and the speed of the traffic made me nervous. By 1 a.m., it was worse. Friday night drivers were hitting 55-60 mph. I stayed up, eating a cold meal (no cooking, too warm), and debated moving. The clean van, fresh sheets, and vacuumed floors felt good, though. Progress.
A Heartwarming Encounter
The highlight of my day came at the park. While charging my devices, I met a woman in her 70s who was pure magic. She was the most mobile, independent person her age I’d ever seen, kicking pine cones down the sidewalk, doing karate moves with her stick (which she definitely didn’t need), and smelling flowers with me. Her playful energy after 77 years was inspiring. We walked, talked, and shared stories. Meeting her warmed my heart and made the chaos of the day worth it. Maybe she did fix my life.
Reflection
I didn’t fix my entire life in 24 hours, but I made a dent. My van is cleaner, my fridge is salvaged, and my sheets are fresh. I navigated gym
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