I am now the proud owner (renter, actually) of my very first storage unit — and it turns out I’m pretty lucky to have it.
I had to call over a dozen storage centers before I found an available unit. I didn’t know we even had that many around here. Apparently a lot of people own a lot of shit.
I could have bitten the bullet and called my dad. He has a cavernous attic that could easily hold my stuff. He wouldn’t have cared.
But see, then I’d have to tell him about this whole living-in-a-van thing. I’m trying to put that off until I have a few months of success behind me. At least. I reserve the right to never say a damn word about it.
If I make it a few months and I truly like the lifestyle, then I’ll probably just sell the extra crap.
For now, though, it feels good to hedge my bets — without relying on someone else.
One week from now will be my first apartment-less day. So woot for that.