layout: post title: “Back in My Borrowed Mobile Office” date: 2026-07-01 —————-

Back in my borrowed ‘Mobile 🛻 Office’

And to be candid, I am glad to be away from my den, which Juelz and I share.

Why? At best, it is crammed for space. Figuratively speaking, one could say:

“Our den is so small, there is hardly room to breathe.”

Yet somehow, this tiny 13 square metre multipurpose environment has become our home, our workshop, our creative space, and our survival zone.

It provides:

• 🖥️ Two computer workspaces (diagonally opposite each other)
• 💤 Two sleeping quarters arranged in an ‘L’ shape

• 🍳 PlebChefs Galley:

  • Gas stove
  • Wall-mounted utility board
  • Steel grocery cupboard
  • Kitchen sink with overhead and under-counter storage
  • Corner steel cupboard

It is a small space carrying a very large weight.

Add to that the atmosphere of grief from losing Rochelle on 14 January 2026. I myself still cannot fully process her departure, and Juelz, I am sure, must be taking it even harder.

Then you will understand why I am glad to be out — albeit only for a few hours.

My new office is not exactly luxurious. It is a borrowed office space, a roughly two-metre square command centre inside a Ford Ranger bakkie. But right now, that little mobile office feels like a breath of fresh air.

Sometimes a little distance is needed simply to clear one’s head.

Lately, however, we have had many other unwelcome guests sharing our tiny den:

• Strife
• Arguments
• Accusations

Not because we want conflict, but because financial pressure has a way of testing even the strongest relationships.

The room we rent was once R1,800 a month. Then electricity changed with the installation of prepaid meters. We were not reimbursed for the additional costs, and now we effectively pay double for electricity.

That little room is now costing us around R2,800 per month — a significant increase when every rand matters.

And then came the mechanical troubles with the bakkie.

Over the last two weeks, the gearbox problems alone cost me five days of income — around R750 lost.

Then another two days away because there was no money available, another R300 gone.

Another day lost at the mechanic: R150.

And yesterday’s March to March cost me another R150.

Small amounts on their own, perhaps, but when you are already standing on the edge, every loss feels like a heavy blow.

My running bill at the shop is now roughly double what my weekly income usually is.

That is, of course, if I manage to work a full week.

Which brings me to the second reason I am glad to be sitting in my Mobile Office today:

I am earning that R150 stipend.

It might not sound like much to some people, but right now it represents something important:

A chance.

A small step toward climbing out of the financial hole we find ourselves in.

Sometimes survival does not come through giant breakthroughs.

Sometimes it comes through a borrowed office, a Ford Ranger, a few hours of work, and the determination to keep moving forward.

🗡️ ‘Othello Cody Verrocchio’ Hopeful