Seriously, no joke, I am homeless.
My boyfriend, on and off for the last three years, and I have parted ways. As a result, I packed my bags and moved out of his apartment. Everything I own is now, not so neatly, packed into the suburban that I have on loan from the family I nanny for in Palos Verdes. It's kind of funny to drive around all day knowing that you can't possibly have forgotten anything at home.
If you can't tell, I choose to laugh at myself. I mean, what else is there to do. I went to Harvard, graduated with a degree, and now, I am homeless. The hilarity is pretty massive. There is no point in becoming frazzled, after all, one day I am sure I will look back on this and feel blessed to have had the chance to grow. I am also very blessed to be able to wake up every morning, throw on my workout clothes and go do what I love to do. I wouldn't trade that for anything, especially not for a big apartment and a cushy salary.
So, if you know anyone in Los Angeles who loves triathlon, has too much money and wants to help out a starving and literally homeless triathlete, point them in my direction. :)