We used to live on a boat. Everything had a place. Every move was a matter of stowing and prepping the boat for a voyage. We tried to keep things neat and organized so this was easy. Wiser heads warned us of the need for emergency escapes from bad weather or anchoring problems, so we tried to keep the boat ready to go at all times.
Apartment life means furniture. And clothes. And computers. Some of this is bulky and we’re not sure if we can move it. We’re struggling with the final phases of clearing out of this place.
The last days here look like this:
Furniture goes to charity. It’s piled up in the one room of the apartment, ready to be dragged down the freight elevator and loaded into a truck. We’ll visit Ikea when we arrive and replace it.
Office clothing goes to charity. It’s replaceable. And. Since neither of us have office jobs any more, we don’t need it as much as we once did.
A bunch of housewares (blankets, plates, etc.) goes to charity also. We bought it from Goodwill. We used it. Now we’re returning it. It’s more like a rental than a real purchase.
Other housewares we’ll want in the new place are being mailed. Six boxes of things expensive enough that shipping is cheaper than donating and replacing.
We’ll do a final clean of the boat. It’s “on the hard” in long-term storage. Some things will be stowed on the boat because we’ll need them when we return to the sea. The boat preparation has been interesting because of the duration. It’s like winter preparations, but the knob is turned all the way to eleven.
This is the high-risk day. We’re going to load the car with the essentials: clothes, computers, guitars, hobby/craft things. If things didn't fit, we’d have a last moment crisis. This could become complex to take stuff back in the apartment, mail the stuff that won’t fit int the car, and then returning the apartment and redo the cramming into the car.
If it fits, however, we can hit the road.
(Meanwhile. I’m supposed to be sending queries. That’s going to have to wait.)