The Piddle Shuffle

Remember the pee pee dance?

You know, the pee pee dance. I'm not sure if this is the universal name (others may have called it the potty trot, the piss twist, or the urine jig) for when children shuffle back and forth nervously, but it certainly is a universal sign all children instinctively give to alert their parents of the need to find a toilet immediately.

This is something we all grow out of as soon as we are old enough to master the art of using the toilet effectively. Unfortunately, many towns across America close their stores early, and with them close my access to bathrooms.

When I find myself parked outside of a Walmart that is not open 24 hours, I often wake up doing the pee pee dance.

This is really my only complaint about living in a van.

I have gotten really comfortable with the day to day aspects of living in my vehicle. Almost too comfortable. The following are signs that I might be going insane and must return to a normal existence as soon as possible:

+ I now enjoy eating in my van. When ordering out at the beginning of this project, I always ate meals in the dining room of whatever restaurant I ordered from. As nice as Taco Bell's decor is, I now find myself more often than not ordering food to go and then eating in my van. I am almost certain this is weird.

+ I look forward to evening television in my living room. Many nights, I set up my laptop on my wash bucket (which doubles as my finest coffee table and entertainment center), plug in to my power inverter, and use the Slingbox I got for my birthday to watch television. These technological advancements have caused me to become surprisingly domestic.

+ The makeshift bed at the back of my van has become so familiar that I consider it to be "my bed." When visiting relatives, I sleep in some really nice guest rooms with luxurious mattresses, but almost never sleep as well as I do in my van. I get a good night's sleep every night, despite the fact that I generally am sleeping under the fluorescent glow of store signs with all sorts of noises penetrating the van's thin walls.

+ I'm sure my lifestyle presents a certain level of danger, especially considering not every place I stop is a good neighborhood, but I always sleep with the doors unlocked.

This is certainly stupid behavior, but I don't see myself correcting the problem anytime soon. It's a stubborn old man thing, like not going to the doctor when I'm sick or injured. Of course, that's also because I don't have health insurance, which, come to think of it, is another compelling argument for locking my doors at night.

When it comes down to it, I like not locking my doors at night, even if it may not be the safest choice.

Too many of us are scared to live because we are so busy living scared.

(Another decisive philosophical stance from yours truly, the man who started today's blog commenting on the pee pee dance. You're welcome. Be sure to check in tomorrow for a blog where I transition from the proper use of a whoopee cushion to a scathing analysis on America's financial crisis.)