If I’m being honest with myself (and to be frank, I try not to EVER be honest with myself), the last time I did a full day of manual labor that I can clearly remember was definitely the 1980s when I worked on Big Jerry’s farm. I probably had some days early in the Army career in the 1990s. There were a couple of tough days in the 2000s when I was in Iraq but I try not to dwell on those times. But the last couple of years my job has been driving a desk with some periods (like an hour a day MAX) of physical fitness.This trip down memory lane was spurred by the all over body pain that Jan and I both experienced all day yesterday. But I’m jumping ahead of myself…

To recap. Last week we quit our jobs. We took the weekend and puttered around the house, identify things we can get rid of, pulling out boxes to think about packing and basically screwing off. Monday we were up bright and early and headed out to the boat for our first full day of prep work for the trip. On the slate was to sand the bottom of the boat and to remove the decorative striping running along the sides of the boat.

jan working lettersSo we went to the marina office, rented an orbital sander, donned protective clothing and had at it. We started about 0930 in the morning and left the boat by 1600, so we were out there less than seven hours. Seven hours of bending, scraping, sanding, rubbing, buffing and generally being miserable. Jan had thrown her back out on Sunday (we are getting old) and so was confined to the ladder and scraping off the stripes centimeter by centimeter. I was trying (mostly successfully) to NOT sand all the way through the paint and gelcoat and permanently damage the boat. While we didn’t get as far as we wanted on the stripe removal (we got about 12.5% complete in 7+ hours), the sanding did get done. We were happy.

We went home. Made dinner. Sat on the couch. And then did ‘paper, rock, scissors’ for who would be the one to get up and get the Motrin from the bathroom. And also tried to figure out of we really needed to walk all the way up the stairs to go to bed, or if we could simply fall asleep on the couch. Because we were tired. And sore. From the first day of not working. Tuesday, needless to say, was not pleasant. We were popping Motrin like tic tacs and wondering what the hell we were doing.  Tomorrow will be better.