It’s me leaving the cafe because it’s closing.
It’s me gathering my things in my cart and walking down the sidewalk to the place I sleep.
It’s me looking for a spot for my tent.
it’s me setting up the tent while watching what the other homeless people are doing.
It’s me keeping an eye out for the crazies and hoping they don’t bother me.
It’s me putting all my things inside the tent and spreading out my sleeping bag and checking my phone one last time.
It’s me listening to the sounds of people walking by, and listening to make sure they keep walking and don’t stop.
It’s me keeping my bike lock nearby in case I am awaken suddenly and need a weapon to protect myself.
It’s me trying to relax enough to fall asleep.
It’s me waking up every couple hours to pee in a container so I don’t have to leave the tent.
It’s me being awakened by loud noises from people fighting just outside my tent.
It’s me waiting for the commotion to settle down so I can get back to sleep.
It’s me constantly checking my phone to see what time it is.
It’s me awake at 4:30am and knowing the cops will be by in an hour to wake all the homeless.
It’s me at 5:00am unable to get back to sleep, taking down my tent, packing up my things in my cart.
It’s me at 5:30am pushing my cart towards the Starbucks.