In my humble opinion, there's nothing better than a mild summer, not too hot during the days and not too cold during the nights. Well, when you've been in the position that I've been in for the past few years, you'd probably agree. We just got through the hottest part of the year a few weeks ago, and I barely broke a sweat. This isn't my first time around the block, so I knew what to expect, but it really did go much better than I anticipated. I was pleasantly surprised when the newspaper I scavenged said that we might actually get some rain. In summer! Despite how close the city is to the ocean, we do not get the rainfall that you would expect, but hey man, I will gladly accept all the water the rain gods bestow on me. Everyone likes free, especially those who are, how do I say, "lacking" in material possessions, like myself. Rain means a free dishwasher, a free shower (soap not included), a thirst quencher, and I know the PERFECT spot underneath a freeway overpass that is just deep enough to minimize the sound of traffic while still getting a front-row ticket to the Rain Philharmonic.
The rain was real good to me, not too much to ruin my few belongings and not too little to not be able to do anything with it. Now that we've crested the peak of summer, on the tail end of the dog days (more like the puppy days), I need to start preparing for a hell so frozen over you can barely move. Look, when you got a place to call home and you have food to eat and heat to spare, your life doesn't depend on something as trivial as an accurate weather forecast. Unfortunately, I learned that I am not in that position. A few years ago I remember I went to sleep in my normal spot just off 3rd Street in a cozy little alleyway all bundled up, and the next thing I knew I'm waking up in heaven, surrounded by bright white lights and angels, except my hands and feet felt like they were in buckets of lava, and the angels didn't have halos. Yeah, turns out sleet isn't something you can just pretend won't affect you when you are a resident of the great outdoors. I learned real quick that I not only have to prepare ahead of time but also prepare for the worst. It's the end of July, so I got a good amount of time before the cold really starts to kick in mid-October.
My winter clothing looks like it's been attacked by a horde of moths, so it's going to the top of the list. Stealing is wrong. It always has been, and it always will be. The thing is, I haven't given up on life just yet, and if I don't steal the necessities, I won't survive. Sorry Target, but I value my life a little more than your bottom line. Before I begin my descent down the mountain and into the city, I have to do my hair and makeup. I want to look good for the people and all that. My most prized possession, a beautiful little Casio F91W-1, has been the single most useful item I've ever used at any point in my life. I'm a young, spry 33 years of age, but given my life circumstances, I feel confident saying that my Casio watch is the most useful thing I've ever used or ever will use. I set the alarm real early, 5:30 A.M., so I can get to the local park by 6 A.M. when the gate unlocks. She's a little dilapidated; there's a wooden gazebo off in the distance with paint peeling in about 5000 different places and a small little playground next to it. The grassy field leading up to the park is glistening in morning dew, and the rusty chains on the swings in the playground sing a squeaky song as they drift back and forth in the morning breeze. I speedwalk as fast as I can to the little hut containing the bathrooms and block the door with the unreasonably large empty metal trashcan. It's quite cold, so I have to be fast, and the water isn't heated, but this is my personal take on a spa treatment. I strip completely naked; my clothes that reek after weeks of not washing and being covered in God knows what are cast aside as I begin the process of meticulously handwashing myself. Yes, in a public bathroom sink. And yes, it's better than smelling the way I normally do. I had a good feeling about today. I was right! The soap dispenser has recently been topped off, and so has the toilet paper. After a good 30 minutes of cleaning every nook and cranny I can reach, I towel off with the toilet paper, get dressed, and embark downtown for the first time in a few months.
I know who I am. I know the condition that I'm in. I know that people don't like seeing me or smelling me. I try my best to stay on the outskirts and head into town only when necessary. Right now, it is quite necessary. It's about a 3-mile walk to get to my destination. I can't lie when I say that I'm exhausted, but this is one of the few days where I have to bundle up all of my emotions and swallow them. If I mess anything up today, I could die. Some days you're just not allowed to take it easy. I've got plenty of food and water, and I have a go-getter attitude. After a rather draining trek along the expressway, with cars whizzing by at what feels like the speed of light, I arrive at a shopping center. It's been a few months since I was last downtown, and I hadn't seen this place, so I assume it's new; logic would dictate that, right? Either way, I'm too tired to traverse all the way to the city center, so I head into the biggest store that sells clothes. It's still very early in the morning, so there aren't too many people out and about, especially not on a weekday. I see some elderly individuals and a few employees, but that's really it. The store is nice. Very nice. It has that fresh chemical-laced smell of freshly painted walls and vinyl flooring. I definitely don't want to spend too long here. I briefly head over to the corner of the men's outdoor section, where there are countless racks of coats, pants, and shirts. I could use a wardrobe refresh, so I pick out the cheapest coat, two shirts, and pair of pants I can find, and I leg it out of there. I feel bad for stealing, but I really can't afford to pay anything, and all the clothing drives have turned me away because I've come back so many times. My fault for trying to have clean clothes, I guess. 
I continue on my way into the heart of downtown. There's this block by 3rd Street where there's this smorgasbord of restaurants of all kinds. I absolutely love traversing the back alleys where they all throw their trash. Yeah, I don't love eating food out of the trash, but for some insane reason people love to complain about perfectly edible and delicious food. So there are a lot of great options. Despite not being able to receive mail. I've travelled around the world, culinary-speaking. Seriously, I forgot how good it is out here. They give out some handouts too if you're nice and don't bother the customers. Look at me, freshly bathed, well fed, and in a brand-new outfit, and I already got my steps in for the day. I could really live like this for the rest of my days. I walk a little further near the local news station. It's about 4 P.M., and they do their daily weather reports at around 5, so I got some time to kill. There's this staircase that leads to a lookout over the entire city that they film at, so I camp out at the stairs. 
"We don't have any money, sir," they retort.
"Nah, man, I just had some questions about the weather. What's it gonna be like this winter?"
The meteorologist responds, "It's pretty far out, so the models we use aren't the most accurate, but it's probably gonna be a cold one. You should look into getting a bed in a shelter."
I thank the gentleman and then hurry off. I go back to my old stomping grounds on 3rd Street, and I set up for the night. I'm freaking exhausted, and I decided on the spot that I'm gonna stay downtown. I got everything I need right here. Food, clothes, water, and entertainment are abundant around these parts. I go to sleep feeling optimistic about the future. A few weeks later I wake up absolutely freezing; his words play in my mind as I realize summer's gone.