Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

I have a reoccurring dream that during times when I need to be alone, I escape my house and drive across the city into one of the dirtier parts of town, and unlock my own tiny rented apartment -- just a getaway apartment that I only visit no more than twice a month, that the wife doesn't know about and I only tell a select group of friends when some whiskey needs to be consumed, or Apocalypse Now needs to be watched outside of the presence of children or women.

I wonder if other people have this fantasy. Of course, I couldn't afford such a place, and really wouldn't want it ... or could I? or would I?

Then I realize that I actually have such an apartment. Granted, it's not a secret place, but I do have it -- and it's cheap as hell, in fact it's only $1600 per year in rent. Not only is it cheap, but it's waterfront property. Ok, it's tiny and cramped, and the lighting in the apartment runs off two golf cart batteries, but hey, it's always stocked with decent whiskey and has a working toilet and sink.

What is this place? It's my sailboat.

Man, it's this type of re-occurring dream that makes me so glad I have it. I mean, it's essentially a tiny waterfront apartment that's cheap as hell and is the perfect getaway. I'm surprised more people don't just get a beat-up boat that they can hang out at as a cheap getaway waterfront apartment.

And it's mobile and (mostly) powered by free energy.