We could also call this ‘How A Gypsy Spent Her Sunday.’ But really, I never thought I could find joy in renting a storage unit. Food trucks? Done that before and it’s always a blast. The storage unit, that was a surprise.
In a not-so-distant post I mentioned moving recently. Part of that move was temporarily keeping some of my stuff in my new roommate’s garage. Two weeks after moving the time at come to find a storage unit for this stuff. This would be yet another step in moving forward. And today I moved into it. A little lakefront unit to house some stuff I don’t have a need for in my current living situation–except for my cheesecake pans! I’ll be back for those darlings. Oh, and my stackable cooling racks. And my favorite mixing bowl. And favorite spatula. But otherwise I needed a space for stuff.
Upon bringing the first load of boxes and a shower curtain rod I realized something. This? Right here? Was my space. My own little fifty square feet to do with (mostly) as I pleased. All mine. Never before did I have a space entirely my own. At my parents’ house I needed permission to some extent. With other places I live(d) I had needed to consider my roommates. But these fifty square feet were just mine. A feeling of simple joy washed over me. …I wanted to decorate the damn space.
No, really I did. For all of five minutes I was considering finding a comfy chair, small table and a lantern so I could escape from everything to this space that was all mine. However, after putting the first load of boxes in I quickly realized there would be no comfy chair and the only table going in this space would be my kitchen table–dismantled no less. But the ridiculous joy coming from knowing that this is my fifty square feet makes me happy, and that happiness definitely has a positive impact my outlook.
And what could make a gypsy even happier than moving her stuff around for the umpteenth time? Food sold from trucks, that’s what.
Upon coming home from moving stuff my roommate informed me there was going to be a food truck bazaar at a local mall. Neat. The novel idea of food sold from big boxes on wheels that travel from place to place just tickles. I love the idea. One shower later and we were on the road.
Now I’ve been to food truck bazaars in the past. In fact that’s how I found my favorite truck, The Crepe Company. But I had never seen so many trucks in one space. It warmed my cold little gypsy heart. And oh the glee! The Crepe Company was there!
Here’s what I like about food truck bazaars–the novelty I mentioned before aside. People are happy at these gatherings. They’re hanging out and eating good food. They’re even pretty okay waiting in lines–and the line at Melissa’s Chicken and Waffles truck was long, oh my word! But the gathering in the middle of this loop of trucks–people, kids, dogs–all having a grand time. …Except for that crying child. No idea what he was sad about. The Yum Yum Truck was there, nothing to be sad about. Oh and get this! There was a truck for dogs! The Gourmet Mutt Truck. How can you not like that? How can you see that and not smile? It makes me wish I had a dog to bring to one of these shindigs.
Here’s what I’m taking away from this day. Simple joy from having a space of my own–even if it is only a storage unit, and a small one at that. Happiness at seeing a bunch of other people having a good time.
Oh, and a Zesty Turkey crepe from my beloved Crepe Company.