Dirt Road Anthem

It's a little overwhelming for me to process the amount of change happening in our life all at once.  We own a 50 foot yacht, for which we are trying to sort through paperwork, documents, etc.  Our house in Connecticut is in a sale contract.  We both quit our jobs.  It's all happening at the same time. While Sharon will be done in a matter of weeks, I will finish out the year with an official end date of December 31, and we will hand the TSA agent at the airport one-way tickets to the islands in January.  New year, new life.

Even though our final move is in January, so much is happening now.  Our house is in shambles.  During the summer we proactively moved a couple UHaul trailer loads of things north to our summer home in the Adirondacks.  Now we are down to our final load this weekend, and we have to be out of our Connecticut house (notice I didn't use the word "home") by the end of the month for the closing.

This move is far more complicated than any other move.  My Connecticut "life" has me at work and/or commuting 14 hours a day, leaving a mere hour or two to work on packing.  Packing and sorting are far more complex than any of my previous move because now things are going either to the boat, to our summer house, to the summer house and then the boat, or to my inlaws house where we will live for the remainder of the year.  Needless to say the logistics are driving me nuts.

Even in my beloved Adirondack hometown, things are changing.  I read today that the dirt road to my home will be paved.  In the end it will be a welcome change, but right now it's ushering in a little sadness.  The simplicity of that dirt road is something I look forward too.  As Jason Aldean says - "I'm chillin' on a dirt road...".  My summer home and that dirt road are welcome calming aids during rough times.  Maybe it's just a little too much for me right now, but damn I'll miss that dirt road.

"Shit just got real"

I seem to be having a serious case of deja vu... Repeatedly.  For months now, time and time again I have stopped in my tracks, frozen.  For that moment, I have stood there in sheer terror quietly thinking to myself - "Shit just got real".

I always thought that when the time finally came for us to make our move to the Caribbean, it would be so easy.  Because I have such malice for Connecticut, I thought that when the time came there would literally be smoke rolling off my tires and this state that I have detested for ten years would be nothing more than a fading landscape in my rear-view mirror.  Wow, was I ever wrong.  No surprise there really, I tend to be very talented at being wrong.

The truth of the matter is that making the decision to pursue our dreams was and is terrifying.  We are leaving a known with financial security to venture into something entirely new with an uncertain outcome.  We are leaving careers that we have built and maintained to try something new that we might not be successful at.  Maybe I just don't have the balls, but for me it was far harder than I ever imagined.  I have to keep reminding myself that we are also leaving a place that was literally killing us.  We are leaving a place where although we had good careers and income, we lacked anything vaguely resembling a life.  I have to keep remembering we are getting the chance of a lifetime to follow our dreams and create a new life.

After weighing all the pros and cons, eventually a hard decision has to be made which can not be reversed.  It's a lot like jumping into the deep end of a cold pool.  You want to swim, you know you can swim, but that water is cold.  You just left the diving board and there is literally no turning back.  That's where we are right now - in limbo.  We are far from the diving board, hanging in mid-air.  We have been looking forward to the swim ahead for a long time, but we are terrified of hitting that cold water for the first time.  The unknown is unnerving.  "Shit just got real".

When I met with my boss, whom I have known and highly respected for ten years now, and explained what we intended to with a resignation, "Shit just got real".  When we rented a UHaul trailer and pulled a load of "stuff" to our summer house, "Shit just got real".  The day we officially closed on, and became owners of a 50 foot yacht, "Shit just got real".  Our house was listed on the market, and a few showings later we were signing offers and contracts, "Shit just got real".

And now, as I sit here writing this, I'm surrounded by boxes marked "Ship to boat", "Summer house", etc.  We have spent our weekend sorting through all our life possessions, and preparing for an estate sale of the remaining contents of our house, furniture, etc.  "Shit just got real".  This is really happening.  We are hanging in the air off of the diving board, with an inevitable big splash coming our way.  Thank goodness the water in the Caribbean is warm.