I wrote this one night in my car when I was feeling silly. :) And apparently a little more paranoid than I've become these days.
When you live in your car everything is an adventure. Lying in bed and remembering that you haven't brushed your teeth yet, you know what is ahead: quietly sit up and find your toothbrush in the front of the car, peek out a couple of windows, try to brush your teeth without rocking the car an obvious amount (which is surprisingly more difficult than it would seem, because the rhythmic nature of toothbrushing finds a resonance in the car's suspension). Keep an ear out for passersby and remain still as they walk by, covering up your light source to remain inconspicuous. As you continue brushing, look through your trash for some kind of relatively watertight container. Spit, rinse, and spit into an empty bag of chips and put it back in the trash. Check the thermometer. It is 38.4 degrees inside your car. Realize that you are about to fall asleep inside what is essentially a refrigerator parked on the street, and sigh contentedly at having escaped from "real life".
