The price of freedom

As of this past Friday, Kevin and I became homeless in the traditional sense as our lease has ended and we're now living full-time on Cielo docked at the marina in Stamford. We have spent much of this week figuring out how stuff that fit nicely into an 1,100 square foot apartment gets stored on a 40 foot boat. Amazingly enough, so far we've pretty much found a place for everything (though I've had to talk Kevin out bringing several items of clothing, including a suit...I mean, who brings a suit to sail around the world...I know, I know...Kevin does). Next week we'll be getting Cielo cleaned up and attending to a few last minute projects and then making our way either down to NYC or potentially up to Block Island for a few days. Either way, we should definitely be in New York by the end of August, and will probably spend a week or two visiting friends and and making every attempt to avoid the $15 cocktail, as the reality of no full-time income is beginning to set in. I feel a bit like I did back in college (let's see....if I buy six rolls of toilet paper, I can save $1.75) when price was an important factor in most decisions made. But as I sit here in the cockpit in the middle of the day on a Thursday watching the ducks paddle by Cielo's stern, I'm also starting to experience that other feeling that was so prevelant in college--that gidiness that comes when you have total freedom and endless possibility before you. And I'll trade that feeling for the need to price out toilet paper any day.