"Maybe tomorrow, I’ll want to settle down, until tomorrow the whole world is my home"

I am such a hobo.

I mean not really in the literal sense where I don't have a means of livelihood and I ride the train to wherever it may take me. Or in the sense where everything I own is tied up in a bandanna that I carry on a stick while I wander with my faithful, yet scruffy looking, canine companion. And not even in the sense where I don't technically have a place to live but I have a lot of cool stuff that pickers come and pay me cash for. No. I do, however, mean in the sense where I don't have a permanent home.

It's true, I'm a 26 year old without a home to call her own. Sad isn't it. Not really though, I don't worry about that kinda stuff mostly. You see back in January I started house sitting for this couple that was on vacation...when they got home they asked if I could stay at his mothers house which had recently been vacated. I've been staying there ever since. Living out of Tupperware tubs and my suitcase for the most part.

The thing of it is though they put a "For Sale" sign up outside the house a couple days ago so now I need to move on soon. Thankfully my dad offered me his 1976 Fleury.

*Now I just spent 10 minutes trying to find a picture of a Fleury online so you know what I'm talking about. It was an impossible task though. Basically it's a tiny little motor home that reminds me of an ice cream truck from the 1960's. Even though it actually looks nothing like an ice cream truck from the 1960's. I'm sure you have a perfect picture of what I'm talking about now in your head.*

And since I'm going to be working at camp for all of July I've been allowed to park my new home down there already and I can stay for all of June if I need to! Whoopie! I'm not sure what I'll do in August...or September...or after that once Winter hits. Maybe, just maybe, I should buy a house. Or at least rent one.

Or I could do what I did before January and switch between living in my parents backyard in my tent or in their spider infested basement and taking house sitting jobs whenever they arise. We'll see. That's hobo style.