By+Terry+K++汪亞群

現(xiàn)代社會(huì)中，隨著生活方式的多樣化，人們觀念里對(duì)“家”的定義也在發(fā)生著改變。家的形式不再限于擁有一所大房子、一個(gè)穩(wěn)定的住所。有些人蝸居在小房子里，有些人住在房車(chē)?yán)铮行┤松踔烈岳盀榧?，下文的作者就體驗(yàn)了一把住在辦公室里的生活。無(wú)論家的形式如何，只要你喜歡這種生活方式，過(guò)得開(kāi)心快樂(lè)，不用為了房租、房貸而放棄夢(mèng)想，那四海為家又何嘗不可呢？

I was asleep when I heard the door rattle against the frame. My eyes flashed open and I sprung upright in my under-desk sleep space. Was it all over？ Had someone come to work early？ I peered over my desk， afraid of what I might see. The morning sun burned through the chicken-scratch1） graffiti of the offices front door， spilling across the labyrinth of desks spread out before me. There wasnt a soul in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief. Probably just paranoia2）. Or maybe not—a breeze blew the front door against its frame， the pygmy3）-like rattle of a loose door jamb. It was the same sound I heard moments before and would hear countless times in the future but never quite get used to.

A little paranoia goes a long way4） when you live in a 10-square-foot workstation. I stood up， stretching my limbs toward the sky like a thawing， cryo-preserved humanoid， neck kinked and back stiff. I bent down to deflate my air mattress. The clock read 6：45 a.m. Under normal circumstances Id still be asleep， but these circumstances were far from normal.

Earlier that week， I had moved into my office. Secretly. I rented out my Venice Beach apartment for the month， packed a few duffels5） with my clothes and prized belongings， and started taking up residence behind my desk， carefully using each square inch of out-of-sight real estate to store my stuff. Not everyone aspires to have their co-workers catching them at their desk in their tighty-whities6）—at 6 in the morning. Believing the best-case-scenario reaction to my being there would be supreme awkwardness， I kept the whole thing to myself. Every morning Id neatly pack away my personal belongings， turning the lights back on and lowering the air conditioning to its too-chilly-for-me 72 degrees—the way they always left it overnight. Id leave for a morning workout and shower， simultaneously keeping clean and in shape while ensuring I wasnt always the first to arrive. Occasionally Id even make myself late to work， blaming the awful L.A. traffic. Just to fit in.

If living in the office seems like too much effort， it was a cakewalk7） compared to making monthly rent payments.

It had been two years since moving to Los Angeles and， like many Angelinos， I was broke. I stretched the definition of affordability by taking a studio apartment8） within 20 minutes of work， cramming my belongings into 250 square feet of glorified tenement9） housing while my savings vanished like a roach10） in the daylight. I put my dreams of traveling and writing on hold11） so I could stabilize my living situation. I figured I could suffer for a bit in the meantime.

By the summer of 2012， those dreams gave way to12） a nightmare. Id been working two jobs—60 hours a week to keep an apartment I rarely had time to enjoy. Then， disaster struck. Company raises and bonuses were frozen. My identity was stolen. I got a hefty13） hospital bill for a surgery earlier that year. With existing student loans， a car payment and my rent set for its maximum-allowable annual increase under the California law， I started to wonder： What happened to my American Dream？

I had little left to sacrifice. Without money， I had two choices： Give up my dreams of working creatively or surrender my time working even more. Either way， the outlook was gloomy. Until I remembered my ace in the hole14）.

A few months earlier， I stopped by the office on a late-weeknight assignment. Everything around the place was closed. The land of business plazas was a veritable ghost town， a blank spot on the map， stripped naked from the daytime bustle. Around that time， the news was filled with stories about an influx of U.S. congressmen taking up residences in their D.C. offices. They were converting perfectly livable， neglected space into their own white-collar Walden15） for the working man. I wondered if I could do the same. But before it became necessary， it seemed impossible.

Yawning myself awake in an empty office， that impossibility disappeared. So what if there was sacrifice？ Waking up with a pumping adrenal gland16） wasnt ideal， but it was better than lying in bed knowing your hours were auctioned off17） to a status quo18） you never wanted in the first place.

Living at the office remains a unique solution to overpriced housing woes. But there are alternatives. Many working folks， balancing skyrocketing cost-of-living with grounded wages， are employing their own varying degrees of minimalism19）. From starving artists living in their vehicles to the middle class moving into tiny homes， from dumpster-dwelling20） college professors to Volkswagen van Major League Baseball players， how Americans are defining “home” is changing at all levels of the socioeconomic scale.

The traditional definition of home isnt always friendly to the neo-minimalist middle class. The Oxford Dictionary defines the term in a variety of ways， with its fourth listing providing perhaps the most progressive description： A place where something flourishes， is most typically found， or from which it originates.

For folks like me， this essence of home is fundamental to our existence. Instead of “homeless，” I prefer to use the term “home-free.” It champions choice without undermining the challenges faced by those without it.

Indeed， what started as a temporary financial solution turned into a lifestyle. I grew to prefer it. Impending debt morphed into growing savings. Sleepwalking through two jobs to squeak21） by gave way to a wealth of free time. My spending habits ground to a halt22）， my savings ballooned. I gave up my apartment entirely， shed a great deal of my belongings， and committed to a life of salaried simplicity.

My routine became more essential， flustering less and less about meeting the lowest levels of Maslows hierarchy of needs23）. I took off to the Caribbean for two summer weeks to film a movie. I celebrated New Years with a lovely lady in South America. I started reading again. Started writing. Living this way forced me to engage my passions. I socialized more often， spent more time outside. My day-to-day—once orbiting around keeping an apartment—now held gravity to my passions. I was happier.

Living in the office had many unexpected perks. But it was far from a permanent solution. I lived in the office for 500 days. Ultimately， the company went under24）. I was part of the first round of layoffs. I lost my job and my home all in one， but I saved over $20，000 in living costs and 216 hours of commuting.

Recently I found myself waking up before sunrise， but this time it happened slowly， taking care not to hit my head on the low ceiling above me. I looked out the passenger-side window. The moon reflected off the water as the sounds of the swells tickling up against the rocky shore echoed past my Pacific Coast Highway roadside parking space.

I was in the back of my truck， atop a twin-size memory foam mattress edged between a mini bookshelf and multi-functional cabinet. This is my new place of residence， a custom-built tiny home on four wheels， great for overnighting at a series of vista points and national forests along the way to Oregon.

I finished building it before I left the office. Everything I needed—a tiny fridge， a portable butane stove， a sturdy water jug， a paper towel rack—I was fortunate enough to purchase while money was good. Mostly I stay local， picking up odd jobs while writing， pursuing the career Id always wanted but never had the time to try. Its a different routine from the office. Its Henry David Thoreau meets Henry Ford25）.

Its not for everybody， either. But Im happy. On the average week， I pack 20 hours of work into a few days， leaving the rest of my time to write. It lacks the material benefits from my full-time days， but the benefits outweigh the negatives. Now I take my home with me wherever I go.

What more could I want？

我正在睡覺(jué)，忽然聽(tīng)到門(mén)碰到門(mén)框發(fā)出的嘎吱聲。我猛地睜開(kāi)眼睛，迅速?gòu)霓k公桌下睡覺(jué)的地方坐了起來(lái)。這下完蛋了嗎？有人提早來(lái)上班了？我從辦公桌上提心吊膽地瞟過(guò)去，對(duì)自己可能會(huì)看到的東西感到害怕。透過(guò)辦公室正門(mén)上鬼畫(huà)符一樣的涂鴉，清晨的陽(yáng)光火辣辣地照了進(jìn)來(lái)，灑在面前迷宮般的辦公桌上。眼前連個(gè)人影也沒(méi)有。我松了口氣，可能只是我疑神疑鬼了。或許又不是，一陣微風(fēng)吹來(lái)，門(mén)板打在門(mén)框上，松動(dòng)的門(mén)框發(fā)出鬼叫一樣的聲音。我剛才聽(tīng)到的就是這種聲音，今后也會(huì)聽(tīng)到無(wú)數(shù)次，可一直適應(yīng)不了。

當(dāng)你住在一個(gè)十平方英尺（約一平米）的工位里時(shí)，多疑一點(diǎn)還是大有益處的。我站起來(lái)，使勁地伸了伸懶腰，就像一個(gè)正在解凍的低溫儲(chǔ)藏的人形機(jī)器人，脖子酸疼，后背僵硬。我彎腰放掉充氣睡墊里的空氣。時(shí)鐘顯示現(xiàn)在是早上6點(diǎn)45分。通常情況下，這個(gè)時(shí)間我應(yīng)該還在睡覺(jué)，但眼下的一切跟正常情況相比還差得遠(yuǎn)呢。

那周一開(kāi)始，我就搬進(jìn)了辦公室住。誰(shuí)都不知道。那個(gè)月我把自己位于威尼斯海灘的公寓租了出去，簡(jiǎn)單地打包了一些生活必需品、衣物和一些值錢(qián)的東西，就這樣開(kāi)始在我辦公桌的后面住了下來(lái)。我小心謹(jǐn)慎地利用人們視野外的每寸空間，把個(gè)人物品儲(chǔ)藏好。并不是每個(gè)人都希望被自己的同事看到在辦公桌旁穿著白色三角褲，還是在早上6點(diǎn)的時(shí)候。若他們看到我那個(gè)樣子，相信在最好的情況下他們的反應(yīng)都是極為尷尬的。所以，整件事我跟誰(shuí)都沒(méi)透露。每天早上我都會(huì)干凈利索地收拾好個(gè)人物品，把辦公室的燈重新打開(kāi)，把空調(diào)調(diào)至讓我覺(jué)得凍得不行的72華氏度—同事們頭天晚上離開(kāi)辦公室時(shí)就這個(gè)樣子。我會(huì)出去晨練，然后沖個(gè)澡，這能讓我在保持干凈清爽和好身材的同時(shí)，還可確保自己不總是第一個(gè)到辦公室。偶爾我甚至還會(huì)故意遲到，并抱怨一番洛杉磯擁堵的交通狀況。只是不想與眾不同。

如果說(shuō)住在辦公室看起來(lái)不容易的話(huà)，那跟每月交房租比起來(lái)，這簡(jiǎn)直是小菜一碟。

那時(shí)我來(lái)洛杉磯已有兩年了，和許多洛杉磯人一樣，我仍身無(wú)分文。我在距離公司20分鐘車(chē)程的地方租了間帶廚衛(wèi)的單間公寓，勉強(qiáng)也算是租得起房的人了。房子250平方英尺（約25平米），美其名曰經(jīng)濟(jì)公寓。我把所有的東西都塞了進(jìn)去，而同時(shí)我的那點(diǎn)積蓄就像大白天的蟑螂一樣唰唰地消失得比什么都快。我把旅行和寫(xiě)作的夢(mèng)想擱置一旁，以便能讓生活狀況穩(wěn)定下來(lái)。我認(rèn)為在這期間自己可以稍微吃點(diǎn)苦。

到2012年夏天，這些夢(mèng)想變成了一場(chǎng)噩夢(mèng)。為了保住我那幾乎沒(méi)時(shí)間享受的公寓，我一直干著兩份工作，每周工作60小時(shí)。之后，災(zāi)難降臨了。公司漲的薪水和發(fā)放的獎(jiǎng)金被凍結(jié)。我的身份信息遭竊。年初做的一次手術(shù)還有一大筆手術(shù)費(fèi)沒(méi)付清，再加上還沒(méi)付清的學(xué)生貸款、買(mǎi)車(chē)款以及我那每年都以加州法律所允許的最高年度漲幅往上抬價(jià)的房租，我不禁開(kāi)始懷疑：我的“美國(guó)夢(mèng)”到底怎么了？

我已經(jīng)沒(méi)什么可以犧牲的了。身無(wú)分文，我只有兩個(gè)選擇：要么放棄我做創(chuàng)意工作的夢(mèng)想，要么花更多的時(shí)間來(lái)工作。無(wú)論哪種方式，前景都很暗淡。直到我想到了“錦囊妙計(jì)”。

幾個(gè)月前，一個(gè)工作日的深夜，我到辦公室趕一個(gè)工作任務(wù)。辦公室周邊的場(chǎng)所都關(guān)門(mén)了。商業(yè)區(qū)集中的地方簡(jiǎn)直就是一座名副其實(shí)的鬼城，成為夜間地圖上的一個(gè)空白地帶，白天的喧囂全然不見(jiàn)。那段時(shí)間，新聞上充斥著各種報(bào)道，說(shuō)很多國(guó)會(huì)議員將哥倫比亞特區(qū)的辦公室當(dāng)做住所。他們將完全可居住卻遭忽略的空間進(jìn)行改造，將之變成白領(lǐng)工人的瓦爾登湖畔小屋。我曾考慮過(guò)我是否也可以這樣做。但不到萬(wàn)不得已時(shí)，這似乎都是不可能的。

在這空無(wú)一人的辦公室中，我打著哈欠醒來(lái)。這時(shí)，這種不可能性消失了。需要付出代價(jià)又怎樣呢？醒來(lái)時(shí)腎上腺素激增并不是很理想的狀態(tài)，但是這也比躺在床上眼睜睜看著時(shí)間被拍賣(mài)換來(lái)你那壓根就不想要的生活現(xiàn)狀要強(qiáng)。

面對(duì)高房?jī)r(jià)帶來(lái)的痛苦，住在辦公室仍不失為一種獨(dú)特的解決辦法。但還是有許多可供選擇的解決辦法。很多工作人士為了平衡飆升的生活成本與紋絲不動(dòng)的工資，都在不同程度地踐行著他們自己的極簡(jiǎn)主義。從住在自己車(chē)上的饑腸轆轆的藝術(shù)家，到搬進(jìn)小房子的中產(chǎn)階級(jí)，從住在垃圾桶里的大學(xué)教授，到住在大眾廂式貨車(chē)?yán)锏穆殬I(yè)棒球聯(lián)盟球員，各個(gè)社會(huì)經(jīng)濟(jì)層面的美國(guó)人對(duì)“家”的定義都在發(fā)生著變化。

對(duì)于奉行新極簡(jiǎn)主義的中產(chǎn)階級(jí)來(lái)說(shuō)，家的傳統(tǒng)定義并不總是很友好?！杜＝蛟~典》對(duì)這一詞有多種定義，其中的第四個(gè)詞條可能提供了一種最為進(jìn)步的解釋?zhuān)荷⒌兀划a(chǎn)地；發(fā)源地。

對(duì)像我這樣的人而言，家的這一本質(zhì)對(duì)于我們的生存來(lái)說(shuō)至關(guān)重要。與“無(wú)家可歸”比起來(lái)，我更傾向使用“四海為家”一詞?！八暮榧摇币辉~捍衛(wèi)了你的選擇，卻又沒(méi)有淡化那些沒(méi)得選的人所面臨的挑戰(zhàn)。

事實(shí)上，最初臨時(shí)性的財(cái)務(wù)解決方案后來(lái)卻成了我的一種生活方式。我漸漸喜歡上這種生活方式。迫在眉睫的債務(wù)變成了日益增多的存款。之前身兼兩份工作，整天昏昏沉沉地干活以勉強(qiáng)度日，現(xiàn)在變成了擁有大把的閑暇時(shí)間。我漸漸地拋棄了之前的消費(fèi)習(xí)慣，存款開(kāi)始猛增。我把租的公寓徹底退掉了，把自己的很多物品都扔了，全心投入到一種領(lǐng)薪的簡(jiǎn)單生活中去。

我的日常生活變得更加精煉，為了滿(mǎn)足馬斯洛需求層次理論最下層的需求而忙亂不堪的情況越來(lái)越少。炎炎夏日里，我飛到加勒比海待了兩個(gè)星期，去拍攝一部電影。我在南美和一位美麗的女士共度新年。我又開(kāi)始閱讀，開(kāi)始寫(xiě)作。以這種方式生活使我激情煥發(fā)。我更頻繁地參與社交活動(dòng)，花更多的時(shí)間待在戶(hù)外。以前我每天的生活都是圍繞著如何保住一間公寓，現(xiàn)在我的生活重心轉(zhuǎn)移到自己的愛(ài)好上來(lái)了。我比以前更快樂(lè)了。

住在辦公室還有很多意外的驚喜，但這遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)不是一個(gè)長(zhǎng)久之計(jì)。我在辦公室里生活了500天。最后，公司破產(chǎn)了。我是首批被裁掉的員工中的一員。我的工作和我的家一下子全沒(méi)了，但是我節(jié)省了兩萬(wàn)多美元的生活成本以及216個(gè)小時(shí)的上下班時(shí)間。

最近，我發(fā)現(xiàn)自己在天還沒(méi)亮?xí)r就醒了，不過(guò)這次是慢慢地起身，我得小心點(diǎn)，以免撞在上方低低的天花板上。我透過(guò)一側(cè)的車(chē)窗往外看。月光照在海面上，海浪輕輕地來(lái)回拍打著巖石堤岸，聲音回蕩在空中，掠過(guò)太平洋沿岸公路路邊我停車(chē)的停車(chē)場(chǎng)，飄向遠(yuǎn)方。

我躺在我的卡車(chē)后部的單人床記憶泡沫床墊上，床墊的一邊是一個(gè)迷你小書(shū)架，另一邊是一個(gè)多功能柜子。這是我的新住所，一個(gè)有四個(gè)輪子的定制的小家。開(kāi)著它前往俄勒岡州，沿途在眾多的景點(diǎn)和國(guó)家森林保護(hù)區(qū)過(guò)夜，真是棒極了。

在我離開(kāi)公司前，這輛車(chē)就已經(jīng)打造好了。我很慶幸，趁還有錢(qián)的時(shí)候，我把需要的東西都買(mǎi)了—一個(gè)小冰箱、一個(gè)燒丁烷的便攜式爐子、一個(gè)結(jié)實(shí)耐用的水壺，還有一個(gè)紙巾架。大部分時(shí)間，我都待在本地，一邊寫(xiě)作一邊打些零工，從事著我一直以來(lái)想做但卻從未有時(shí)間嘗試的工作。這樣的日常生活與辦公室生活截然不同。這就像是亨利·戴維·梭羅遇見(jiàn)了亨利·福特。

這種生活并不適于每個(gè)人，但我很快樂(lè)。一般每周我會(huì)把20小時(shí)的工作量集中在幾天內(nèi)完成，剩下的時(shí)間我用來(lái)寫(xiě)作。這種生活雖然缺少全天上班時(shí)的那種物質(zhì)利益，但其益處蓋過(guò)了弊端。現(xiàn)在我不管到哪里去，都可以把家隨身帶著。

生活如此，夫復(fù)何求？