This weekend we're moving out of the apartment and we'll be living on the boat full time, representing the last major stage before we enter orbit. It's an experience that's at the same time stressful and exciting - nerve wracking and cathartic. It's an incredible feeling to get rid of almost everything you own (with the exception of a few items of clothing, surf boards, two guitars and a LOT of boat parts). When I was in college, I had a huge box, and at the end of every school year, I threw everything in it and that was all I owned. I had that box for all four years, and anything that didn't fit had to go. I don't feel like I've spent a whole time acquiring stuff between then and now but that's demonstrably false. When we moved out of the house into the small apartment we're in now, I felt as though we'd gotten rid of EVERYTHING, but there's still a surprisingly large pile.
The time between now and when we leave should prove to be illuminating - even though we won't be sailing, we'll still have to adapt to life in a very small living space (the can of varnish I used to refinish the floor boasted a coverage of 100sq/ft - two coats later, I had extra). Other stuff like how long we can go between refilling the fresh water tanks, pumping out our holding tank and figuring out where we'll put our clothes and should be interesting too.
This is a step I've been thinking about and anticipating for a long time, and it's a bit strange to actually have the time come - it's a not so gentle reminder that the day when we sail out of the Golden Gate and don't come back is coming, and coming... well... pretty damn soon. Exciting and a little scary. I keep reminding myself that I've never really done anything worth doing that wasn't scary before hand (climbing trips, surfing on big days, marriage...).
Anyhow, this is about all that's left in our room:
It's crazy to think that this room will qualify as large in comparison to the boat.
Back to it.