I've been here a day so far. I'm tired, my back hurts from carrying a ton of stuff, my room's a mess, the living room's a mess, my stuff is strewn about everywhere... but I'm happy. Or at least on my way to feeling happy. I feel like I belong here. On the boat, on this boat, with these people in this place. Whatever reservations I may have about Marin (e.g., the traffic) somehow seem quite moot. The water is a soothing neighbor, and one I'm glad I can visit with every day.
The people neighbors are nice too. All my roommates seem great. It's a very sane living situation with respectful adults (two of whom are older than me, which is a nice change from law school where I generally kept ending up as the oldest person in my circles) and there's reason to hope that it will be smooth sailing from here on out. (No pun intended; the houseboat doesn't move except up and down with the tide and slightly side to side with the wind.) I also really appreciate the way they all greeted me yesterday at the end of my long drive: "Welcome home." It really feels like that's where I am, and I'm really glad.