One Long Shortcut

  Chapter 157: The Great Walmart Tire Ballet The big mission of the day was deceptively simple: rotate the tires on Don Don Van. A normal adult errand.  I should have known better. I had already tried booking an appointment through the Walmart app, only to discover that apparently tire rotations exist in some mysterious administrative dimension inaccessible to technology. The app wouldn’t let me book it, nobody answered the phone, and eventually I decided to just show up. As I pulled into the Auto Care Center, I spotted another Promaster 3500 already inside the workshop. Perfect. Proof of concept. I lined up behind it feeling oddly victorious. A man came outside and gave Don Don Van one long look. “I don’t think we can do it,” he said. “Your car is too big.” I stared at him. Then pointed dramatically at the van inside. “There is literally the same van in your garage right now.” “No,” he said confidently, holding his hands about halfway apart. “That van is way smaller....

  Chapter 154: Certified Mail & Concrete Walls We spent the previous night parked at our future home site and woke up to the sound of people talking right outside the van. This was deeply unsettling for two reasons. Firstly, we don’t exactly have neighbors. Secondly, it was before 7am, which automatically makes every sound feel threatening. I peeked out of the window in confusion and saw actual humans walking around the construction site. After my brain slowly booted up for the day, I realized these were construction workers working on our foundation. They probably looked at our van hidden amongst the trees and assumed we were some dodgy people secretly living in the woods. Which, to be fair, was not entirely incorrect. Still in my pajamas, I climbed out of the van to greet one of them and explain that we would be leaving in a few minutes. The guy smiled politely and managed to tell me, “My boss… coming with big car.” I attempted to explain that perhaps the “big car” should wai...

Chapter 151: Mazes, Mood Boards, and Mild Delusion After checking out of the campground, I swung by our construction site and did a full double-take. The trenches that once looked like an archaeological dig site had been filled with concrete, and the whole place now resembled a very committed attempt at building a human-sized maze. So, I decided to walk it. This felt like a big upgrade. Previously, I hovered at the edges like a nervous bystander, worried I’d fall into a trench and have to make the world’s most embarrassing phone call: “Hi yes, I fell into my own future living room.” But now, with the concrete footings in place, I treated them like walkways. Five minutes later I was completely disoriented, standing somewhere between “future kitchen” and “maybe bathroom?” with no idea how I got there.  The afternoon was dedicated to being a serious adult: paint swatches and wallpaper samples. I laid them all out in the van like I was about to solve a crime. Except all the clues lo...