Eighteen Days on the Hard

That’s five more than last time in case your math wheels are as grease-caked as mine.

We’ve been holed up in this land-locked shanty for eighteen days. No AC. Probably drinking Louisiana brain-eating amoeba water. Existential anxiety in robust form as a daily barrage of truly scary news pours through the radio. Two months without the kid, and a month more to go. Bad luck turning up everyday exactly like that bikini I ordered from China five months ago does not.

I’m reminded daily of the fat ass flying cupcake scene from Cabin Boy. #WeAreCabinBoy via GIPHY

When our first four attempts to splash down were postponed for one reason or another, we made the best of the extra time on the hard. I used it to focus on my business and get back in the swing of normal work in an entirely different sort of setting. A hot, oh so very hot setting. With lots of noise and also lots of hotness.

And I’ve actually got it easy. I’m sitting up on a porch writing. I’ve got a slight breeze and some shade.

Jack has been using the time to finish gutting the boat. The boat without AC if you recall. He’s in beast mode. He’s like a boat-building machine. This guy does not play.

We’d hoped to splash down for good tomorrow, but our tow got towed. Well, kind of. Let’s say that’s exactly what happened because it’s maybe 5% cooler than what actually happened.

That left us both feeling pretty dejected. It means we’ll be living rough a few more days – 20 total when it’s all said and done. So long as the worst case scenario just happened.

I’m getting a very strong At World’s End vibe from this week. via GIPHY

Jack said we should’ve named the boat Lemony Snickett what with all the unfortunate events. We’ve gotten used to it, so neither of us registered any emotion when we got the news of the latest delay. I felt like some part of me wanted to cry, but it’s possible that all of my tears are dehydrated and my soul has died. Just kidding. Seriously. Kidding. (I’m not kidding.)

Today, I’m working on conjuring my twin superpowers: stubbornness and self-delusion.

I’m reminding myself that we made a choice to reject the given options, and that means we have to DIY our own. There was absolutely no reason to believe that building a new kind of life out of nothing but imagination and industry was going to be easy. Everything points to the opposite being true.

It was always easy for me to do what I thought I was supposed to do. It was easy to just take what was given. Accept the life that seemed to be rolling out under my feet. Not always satisfying, but easy.

We’re not doing that anymore. We’re doing what we want to do, what feels right to us. We’re going off script. Off the edge of the map. It stands to reason that things would be harder.

But the view is also way better, and no matter what, life’s gotten more interesting. We’re going to be anxious and hot and stressed out no matter what we’re doing. At least we’re doing it on a boat.

That’s what I keep telling myself.

Obviously, we’re still keeping our heads above water with some hard-scrabble buoyant thoughts.