On your death bed, what you would look back at with regret? Most people say they regret not spending more time with their kids or family. Until recently, I could honestly say I could be on my death bed today and have no regrets. I’ve achieved all the goals I had as a young person. I lived in an apartment with a pool, I’ve had cats and dogs, I got married, I bought a house, I saw the ocean, I’ve had an office. Mission accomplished, all my goals achieved. Obviously, I didn’t know dreaming big was an option, those things all felt really big when I was younger.

Achieving all of that was good enough for me for a long time. And really, it’s still good enough for me, I’m proud of the life I’ve built, of how far I’ve come from where I started, and I’m happy with where I am in life.

But if I was going to die next week, I would be filled with regret that I never went full time in the RV and saw the country. Spending this month living and working in a gorgeous state park has really given me wanderlust. I can’t wait to see more! I’ve never been to Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Glacier … the West is calling to my soul.

On the one hand

The Minnesota winters are destroying my mental health. The last couple of winters have inflicted serious Season Affective Disorder on me and thrown me deep into depression. I’m clearheaded enough now to recognize the last two years were exceptionally challenging; COVID meant working from home and getting together indoors with friends wasn’t safe, so I was very isolated. Watching Toby age was brutal and depressing, keeping me home with him instead of outside getting the sunshine I need (even if it is -20, sunshine is still important). Losing both my beloved boys was sheer hell.

So of course I want to go full time! To chase sunshine and 70’s and avoid these brutal, misery inducing winters.

But on the other hand

Living in the RV for a month in the state park has also left me homesick, ready for more space, for the fenced in yard, and over the RV life generally. I’ve come to the realization everything in RV life is just a little harder. Worth the tradeoff to explore the country, but it adds up eventually.

• You have to monitor the holding tank levels and dump. It’s fine but it gets a little annoying to try to dump early in the morning or late in the evening to be considerate of other campers.
• The A/C is very loud. It’s fine but gets annoying.
• Shower water pressure is not as good as at home. It’s fine, but I miss the blast at home. I never fell all the way clean in an RV shower.
• There is no dishwasher, so you’re always washing dishes. It’s fine, but it gets old.
• There is no garbage disposal, so you have to be careful not to send food junk down the train to make the gray tank stinky. It’s fine, but I miss the in-sinkerator.
• The couch is a tiny love seat and the recliners aren’t as long as my legs. It’s fine, but I miss stretching out on the big sectional at home.
• Something is always breaking. Your home goes through the equivalent of an earthquake every time you move, it’s inevitable that things break. Always. All the time. Big and small, something is always broke.

Sticks and bricks house has fewer challenges

Moving SUCKS. Just the thought of decluttering, cleaning, fixing and listing the house gives me hives. Plus, in around 10 years we’ll have the house paid off! It’s a cute house and we love it, it’s not perfect, the neighborhood isn’t the best, but if I’m going through the pain of moving, it better be for something/somewhere amazing. Our family and friends are all here. We can’t exactly RV home for the holidays this far north, so we’d have to fly or drive cross country (so the dogs can come along) and stay in hotels along the way. I’m sure extrovert Jamey would make friends with random strangers on the road, but I would miss my close-knit group of girlfriends, my girls weekends, my sisters trips. Those would be few and far between if we lived on the road.

What RV is right for me?

I wanted to say we could go full time in the RV we own today. After all, it’s paid off, it’s reasonably sized, it’s bigger than a lot of the tiny RVs and camper vans people live in full time. But I just can’t do it, I need space. I need a residential size fridge. I need a full size couch to stretch out. I need a dedicated workspace where I can put a big monitor.

Jamey and I have spent the last few weeks talking about the realities of going full time. It’s clear to both of us that while we love the Transcend, it’s too small to actually live comfortably. Maybe if we didn’t have two big dogs to trip over. But we can barely walk around the bed, getting dressed in the bathroom often results in bruised extremities because it’s so tiny. God bless everyone who can make it work in #vanlife.

I think my ideal is a Fifth Wheel toy hauler, room enough to park the tiny Mitsubishi Mirage, and to make an office for me. Or maybe a Class A motorhome is a better choice, so much room, easy to drive, and we could tow the Mirage.

All the space!

I came home to do some laundry and to go into the office for an actual in-person meeting. And while there I was struck by how much I love the house and how much space we have! There is more room to move around in the living room than all of the RV. It’s kind of glorious …

So now I struggle with my general ennui about dealing with the little annoyances of RV life full time. Maybe the answer is to buy a house in the south and spend 3-4 months RVing in the Midwest to see friends and family. Spend the miserable Minnesota winters in the sticks and bricks in the south. Friends and family would love to come spend time in the warm sunshine when it’s 20 below at home! But where in the south? We loved Savannah, but I suspect the humidity would kill us. I hear good things about North Carolina, but I’ve never been.

I’m so torn!

I think my family looks at my RVing as a cute hobby they can’t relate to. They don’t know how bad my mental health has been the last few winters, and how much spending our limited summer time in the sun and nature makes me so much happier. For my own mental health, I think leaving Minnesota is inevitable. I’ll give this winter one last chance. I will try to make the best of the situation, bundle up and hike in the snow and come home to lots of cozy fires. Thankfully, Hazy and Barley are young and energetic and up for hours long hikes. We’re going to make lots of frigid memories.

What to do?

So where do I land? I REALLY want to go full time and I really don’t want the work of selling the house. What should we do? What do you think? Have you gone full time? Please, advise!

Update upon reflection

I’ve been home for a day now and am heading back to the RV this afternoon. With some perspective, I think the reason this has been harder for me is because I’m not getting the real experience. I broke two ribs about half way through our stay in Nerstrand and that really limited what I’m able to do. No more bike rides, no more long hikes. And while Northfield is a nearby, cute town, it’s not exactly very interesting. So I’m cooped up and getting a little stir crazy.

When we did our month long road trip last year, I wasn’t home sick once. I was happy to be home to the create comforts of the sticks and bricks, but I never got sick of the RV. I noticed the little annoyances, but they weren’t as annoying because it was the price you paid for the freedom of exploring. I’m back to wanting it more than not, but I still realize I need a bigger unit.

Either way, the economy looks like we’re going into a recession now, so selling my house may be off the table for a couple of years.