Day Minus Six

Clean up is well underway. The floors are mopped, the sills are vacuumed, the drawers are washed and the last can of Endust is tossed in the trash. Two years without having to lift a dust rag. Excuse me if I giggle.

As I walk through the apartment, it grabs me how quiet and bare the rooms are. Yesterday they were littered with boxes, scrambling bodies and empty Pepsi cans. For the last three weeks, my days were filled with boxing and wrapping and total exhaustion. Now, with nothing around me, my time living within these walls seems distant. An old anxiety creeps back to haunt me. I feel oddly insecure. If the familiar things that surround you help you to feel safe and secure, then I wonder how I will obtain that feeling living only with what I can carry on my back. 30 lbs of basic survival gear.

Thirty pounds is my limit for long days, and with the need to conserve weight comes the need to limit gear to only the essentials. Most things in life, I have learned, are not essential. Scratched from the packing list were the obvious weight hogs like blue jeans and my favorite sweatshirt sporting the words "only one hill" claiming I ran up Mt. Washington. Don't be impressed, I didn't - but I've gotten more comments. John is tugging at my sleeve insisting that I mention that he DID in fact run up Mount Washington, so please be impressed again. Gone of course were the CD player, the surround sound entertainment system (we'll survive somehow). Scratched too were things like make-up, jewelry, belts, even a soap dish. Two weeks ago, I even donned a punk hairdo in order to eliminate a hairdryer, brush and gel.

Bulk was next. A pack that's the size of a small grizzly is a bit of a nuisance. And a pack that won't fit in a storage locker can be a problem. So to conserve space I purchased light-weight fast drying clothes, (cotton in any percentage was out) and limited myself to two pair of shorts, one pair of long pants, two T-shirts and one long sleeve shirt. The underwear and socks were cut from seven to four, and for warmth, the layering look is definitely it. What early travelers did without Supplex, Coolmax, Micro Fleece and Gortex I'll never know.

Day minus six - the evening

I am scrounging for more plastic cups and paper plates. Eight friends, two of whom are good friend back from a four year assignment in Switzerland, have disembarked at our door and we are entertaining. I had commented to my husband earlier that it would be fun to have one last dinner party before we left. Now it appears, my wish has come true. Of course I had envisioned it happening before our apartment looked like an empty cell block. On the up side, however, paper and plastic require virtually no clean up, and I can't remember the last time I didn't care when moo-shi was splattered over the table cloth.