I originally thought I would write a note every day about living in my car. Then I thought again: writing when something moves me should not become a daily chore. I should write when I feel like it—when I am happy, when I am sad, when I cannot make sense of things. So how am I feeling right now? It is complicated. Part of me misses home; another part wonders how I ended up doing something quite this wild.
Usually, we miss home because someone out in the world has treated us badly, or because we have begun to miss the life we had there. I think it is the latter for me. But perhaps it is the former too, because life itself can push us around. I really miss my summer days at home: waking up whenever I pleased, working out, making a shake for breakfast, then going to work with my family and playing with my little nephew, a year and a half old… Of course, those are all happy memories now. Thinking about them should make me happy, not sad. It is only the days when we were happy that we keep returning to in conversation and longing for afterward. Missing those days is never a way of punishing ourselves. It is something that tells us, “You had a beautiful, happy stretch of life.”
What I need to do now is live the present well, and try to make it something my future self will look back on too. I have to face it bravely, shape it with my own hands, and refuse to back away.
It is September 20. I arrived in San Francisco at three thirty yesterday afternoon, so I have “survived” my first day. Overall, things feel pretty good so far. By the time I lay down in the car last night, it was late and I was exhausted. I fell asleep without thinking about anything. This morning, though, looking out at the blank whiteness beyond the window, I felt a little pang. I am used to waking up in a big bed in a room of my own, with a view of our little courtyard outside—not like this. The sudden unfamiliarity hurt, but I believe it will gradually fade with time, and may even become something familiar.
The only way out of that pain is to step out of the car and join the life going on around me. Talking with friends and sharing what life in the car is like also helps ease the loneliness. These first few days are the hardest. I have to get used to living in the car full time while dealing with the exhaustion of jet lag. The start of school is busy too, with each course’s routines to learn and everything else that comes with it.
Still, living in my car seems to have plenty of advantages. First, it builds my willpower and my ability to fend for myself. Second, it forces me to spend more time out and about, which means more people and opportunities, and less catching up on sleep during the day. It also means going to bed early and getting up early. And the money I save will let me do more things.
I actually got seven hours and seventeen minutes of sleep today, going to sleep after midnight and getting up at seven. Around noon, though, I felt sleepy and a little nauseous, because it was three in the morning in Beijing, when I would be deeply asleep. But I have to keep myself from sleeping during the day. At most, I will lie down for a while, so I can get to sleep on time again tonight.
That is all for today. The next entry may not be tomorrow. I will write again when I have something I feel like putting into words.
I hope things go smoothly from here.
要政阳
September 20, 2026, Santa Clara