Wednesday was my last day as a librarian (sigh, it was lovely); Tuesday will be Steve's last day of work.  I was probably 10 when I last knew what it was for work not to be a major, major chunk of life  . . . whether loving a job, or not, looking for a job, wanting a new job, expecting to find one/a better one soon, planning or retooling for the next, planning life/vacations around a job.  And I'm finding I can do this.  But the organizing of  life-without-a-home looks impossible still, and time-consuming.  The excitement is mounting, though . . . tickets to Quito purchased, hostel arranged, the Andean flute music playing softly in my head.  Major challenge:  two pairs of shoes . . . really?