The truth is Scott and I are in a sort of limbo at the moment. Sure, we might have arrived at our end destination for this particular road trip, but we are in no way "home". I am typing this entry from the soft, lumpy bed of a cheap motel where we are staying for an undetermined length of time and our boat and new "home" - one that we are only vaguely familiar with having been on it only twice - is not ready for us. The sense of "homecoming" is lost and everything feels a bit anti-climactic. We've got an SUV full of stuff that we can't unpack, our baby is sleeping on the floor of the motel closet, our new boat is a construction zone and we're eating take out (again) while CNN drones on quietly in the background. Glamourous this is not.
I'm not writing to complain, but rather as a reminder that when you choose to live like we do there will be moments where things feel plain weird. That old yin/yang thing again. Sure, we get to travel to beautiful islands and see amazing things, but we also get to sleep in semi-questionable efficiency motels with the "fringe of society" folk. We knew this would happen. It was inevitable that there would be an adjustment period to get back into the swing of things. So much has changed. In a way, we're back at square one. Like the new kid on the first day of school, we need to get the lay of the land and ease ourselves into our new life. It'll happen, it's just going to take a little time.
In the meantime, it's really good to know that a) we have a baby who will sleep anywhere (point for the sleep schedule!), b) Mexican fast food (i.e. not Taco Bell) is plentiful, cheap and really good down here and c) as far as I can tell, this motel - while it might have an undistinguishable odor - does not have bed bugs.