Woke Up: Coon Island Went to Sleep: St. Helen’s, Oregon
Today I woke up without a job. The first day since the summer of 1972 I’m not employed. In 1972, age 15, I lied about my age to get a job as a waitress at JB’s Big Boy. By the time I was old enough to legally work there, I was assistant head waitress. I have worked hard for 42 years. It would be a profound understatement to say, “I’m tired.”
There is so much more stuff on the boat than there used to be. All of the stuff from the storage unit, both our offices, the gym and the dock had to be sorted and either given away, thrown away or moved on board. Slowly we are finding a home for each and every new item so we can continue to function in our mini floating home/vehicle.
I suffer from the disease of “more.” I’ve suffered from this malady all my life. More food. More miles. More beer. I walk into a grocery store with my friend to buy a snack for our hike. She comes out with a $4 purchase while I’ve selected items totaling $43.95. Perhaps in a previous life I live through the Great Depression and now I suffer from a sense of “not enough”.
Now it’s time to reinvent myself. From this day going forward I have to make due with what there is. There is enough. There is enough on board to sink little Penelope. Kathy Phillips took me to Costco and I stocked up on $250 worth of toothpaste, bath soap and dental floss. We’re riding so low in the water the kitchen sink barely has enough head to drain.
Peter is struggling with our transition. He’s been a wage slave his entire life. Married to the Almighty Dollar and now they are getting a divorce. I have to be very gentle with him until he adjusts.