Friday, 31 January 2003. Simplification is my objective in these final weeks at IBP. I believe I have enough money to make the desired transition to another city. My plan called for a stopover in El Paso, Texas (for at least one week) in order to remove my worthless belongings from storage. One other thing I will need to do is obtain a driver’s license and Mexico insurance and get repairs and registration and all my papers and other documents in order.
Plan: February 1st through 5th 2003:
- Purchase camping gear and supplies
- Inventory belongings and buy what’s needed
e.g. “I need new frames for my lenses.”
I am going to need to set up a mock campsite in the living room of this empty apartment to determine if my supplies are adequate in the event that I might have to go native in South America.
Between February 6th and 13th 2003, it’s all about securing my funds and belongings for the exodus to south Texas: Driver’s License and Insurance and Registration then Mexico Insurance and Transit Visa then G.E.D. (Brownsville) and Electrical Journeyman’s License.
I am thinking that I could get work as an electrician’s helper or apprentice if my unemployment doesn’t come through.
Monday, 17 February 2003. Mock Campsite. What are the most important features in a campsite? The tent, sleeping bag and cooking site. I must question myself about what I do when I return to this apartment. It is a shelter first and foremost but, most importantly, it is a place where I cook. All I do when I get here is get warm, find a place to sit, have a lot of booze to drink – I get drunk, listen to the radio or look at the television, piss and shit, prepare food to eat, and, then, I go to sleep. “That’s all folks!”
I don’t have an emergency survival kit or a first-aid kit. Will need to secure both before too long… How about utensils? Cups? Plates? I have a canteen with a sort of cup included. I have a mess kit. I might need one of those Swiss army utensil sets or something. Besides that, I believe I have everything I need.
Thursday, 6 March 2003. DISORGANIZED. The purpose of a journal is to organize one’s thought processes, not to impress Noble laureates in literature.
I can’t say much about the progress I am making on this boat-building project. I still don’t have the plans for the Glen-L 7.9, and I haven’t gotten into the middle of my boat-handling research. I am disorganized. My head isn’t screwed on straight. It’s going to be another month before this journal makes sense.