I moved to the Bay Area on a whim to start a new life. Here's how it's going so far:

Wednesday, January 20, 2016 — My first day at my new home in Sausalito.

I can’t believe I pooped solid.

Yesterday I traveled 15 hours on a train from Solana Beach to San Francisco. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner came out of a microwave. The “food” was highly-processed slop that I wouldn’t throw to dogs. You know those documentaries about animal cruelty in the meat industry?

The ones that show animals being brutally mass murdered? Well, trains are where they serve that torture meat.

The emotionless attendant chucked my $10 plastic bag cheeseburger into a dirty microwave. The texture was confusing, somehow with a soggy bun and hard cheese. The outside was scalding hot, and the inside was cold. For dinner I ordered Amtrak’s “famous” grilled chicken, according to the announcer lady. Nobody has famous grilled chicken. Grilled chicken is what you order when you want something better, but you’re trying to save money.

I took one bite of mashed potatoes and instantly got a stomach ache. It’s normal to eat crappy food and feel bad afterwards. I was in pain when the food was in my mouth. A word of advice: if you’re taking a long trip on a train, pack your own meals.

Finally, after starting my journey at 6:40am, I arrived at San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf at 10:15pm. Since dinner was served on schedule with retirement home cafeterias, I was pretty hungry. The closest thing open was In N Out Burger. That was the healthiest meal I had all day.

I woke up starving. I found some of Clarence’s unsliced sprouted bread in the fridge and cut myself a couple slivers. I’m surviving on scraps.

I have no car.

I have no job.

I have student loan debt.

I have credit card debt.

I don’t have much cash.

Almost all of my earthly possessions are rolled tightly inside two suitcases.

But I’m pretty happy.

The sky is grey, the ground is wet, and the air is cold. It may sound strange, but I prefer this weather. The sun in southern California is powerful. It’s bright rays burst through closed blinds and sting you awake, shouting at you to get up and be active.

The melancholy atmosphere suits me. It’s easy on the eyes. It’s one of those days when you wake up slowly with a cup of coffee. It’s these days when I do my best thinking.

Now I’m going to walk over a mile to the nearest grocery store to get some rations.

Then, I don’t know.

Wish me luck.