The Joys and Struggles of Living in a Cardboard Box
When people find out that I live in a cardboard box, their eyes light up. They say things like “Wow, you’re so resourceful,” and “That’s so edgy of you,” and “It must be so compact.” It is compact, sometimes, but it’s easy to forget that when you’re struggling to keep the rain from getting in with a screaming baby on your lap. Still, I love the way I live: I love being close to the ground, and feeling more connected to the earth and in sync with the changing weather than I did living on a bed.
That isn’t to say box life was always the plan. I used to imagine I’d end up in some cozy apartment, with modern furniture, appliances and a fireplace. I still get jealous when I browse through home magazines – a TV! Indoor plumbing! But for my husband, Dan, and I, with our minimum wage office jobs (I’m a receptionist, he’s a janitor. Fine, my minimum wage job) along with, you know, The Economy, buying a house or even renting an apartment just isn’t feasible, especially in San Francisco. But owning his own home has always been important to Dan, who grew up dirt poor, so we began to explore alternative options. Once we let go of the impossible goal of a house and focused instead on what we could afford, everything changed.
The challenges are innumerable, including providing for a child and, yes, getting out of bed. But we’ve gained so much more than we lost. We’ve learned to live with less, to appreciate the little things, to make the most of the space we have. It’s not always easy, but it’s an adventure. And besides, we’re saving a ton of money on rent. Who needs a fancy house when you can have a cardboard box with a view?
