Glorified and Bohemian

The little things are what slow you down the most when packing. Every time I think I am getting closer to the bottom of the pile, there seems to be a few more things here, a couple of trinkets over there...what I would give to be able to snap my fingers and have things instantly in order and boxed neatly in my car ready for departure.

I was thinking late yesterday afternoon about how long a year really isn't. Think about it: So far, Lindsay and I have spent roughly a month cleaning up our home, preparing it for our tenants and our trip. A year is only 12 months...we've spent a 12th of that time preparing ourselves to live a simple life for the next year.

Now that our home is packed up, and Lindsay is finishing up her final shifts in Portland, ME, I am left couch-surfing. As glorified, and bohemian as that sounds, it makes me feel no more than a dirty vagrant. I suspect that feeling will subside the more we move from town to town and city to city.