I am in the midst of sanding
off the PO's poor attempt at applying a barrier coat, which for me means an hour drive each way (usually after a full day of work), spending time away from my family
, and endless hours of tedious and nasty work. I was feeling a bit disheartened the other day kept telling myself "this is just part of it, and it can't always be fun." I then laughed thinking "this boat gives you a handful of trouble-free, wonderful days a year. All she asks in return is all of your money
, tons of labor, blood, sweat, and even tears. Seems like a fair trade
off." So I agree with the previous statement that we must be masochists. But, and I doubt I am alone here, as much as I complain about it, and as much as it can suck, I love it.
Like you, my wife and I are a long way from attaining our life goal. We have four dogs
, a new baby, a mountain of student loan debt, and worst of all, we live in Oklahoma. I am certainly not trying to commiserate or compare crumby situations, but I do know how you feel. Throwing lines from a boat we don't even own yet seems infinitely far away and, at times, like an unrealistic fantasy. It is, however, a fantasy that has haunted me since I was a child and I can't ever seem to escape it.
I find that it gives me purpose - a dangling carrot to chase, and viewing it as such helps on those days that I am on the verge of losing hope. I use it to answer the endless inquiries of why that live in my head
: "Why get up and go to work?" Because every dollar I earn puts us that much closer. "Why slave away on an old boat on a lake in Oklahoma?" Because I am gaining invaluable experience and learning
to do things properly. "Why go for a run?" Because staying fit will be critical and beneficial when living aboard
. "Why drink a 14th beer
?" Because looking at it all through a sober lens might make me insane.
Even if it never comes to fruition, the fact that this dream has provided a purpose and justification for drudging through the muck and mire is something for which I am thankful.
Sorry for the long and somewhat cheesy response, but your post hit home with me. I was actually feeling a bit discouraged while driving into work this morning. "Southern Cross" then came on the radio
and that first verse brought everything back to life...sometimes it doesn't take much.
In short, I guess I am just trying to say "hang in there." In a short life full of white noise
and nonsense, the notion of turning dreams into reality is the only thing that really makes sense to me.