Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La-de-da-dee-dee
La-de-da-dee-da
And the beat goes on
And the beat goes on…
It occurs to me that I haven’t had a great deal to say lately. For the most part that’s been because there hasn’t been a great deal going on to talk about. The chaos of settling into a new ship has long since passed, the controlled insanity of debark is still a long way in the future, and for now life simply rolls along in the midterm…from embark day to embark day, in an established routine that’s punctuated only by mild peaks of difference. The hour glass just keeps flipping over.
In drowsy weeks like this you find yourself giggling at the most mundane things just because they’re a break from the ordinary – for example I almost burst out laughing at the crew farewell this morning because a friend of mine who happened to be standing behind me decided to use me as an arm-rest (something he was far too impish about as I gave my shoulder a hard shrug and sent his arm back to its proper place).
In my case I start actually drinking coffee, something that is a very rare and not always good occurrence for me. Me on coffee is like ‘normal’ people on a drug high, I get insanely hyper for about two hours and then crawl off somewhere to collapse and possibly pass out. But when I’m running on this little sleep (since I have once again become a Party Band groupie, the hours take a toll on me), I find I need the jolt of a cafe mocha mid-afternoon to get me through the rest of the day. It’s quite possible that I should be concerned about this, but I’m choosing not to be. As long as I limit my intake I remain mostly on my feet.
In the meantime the evenings pass…on my good girl nights I sit and watch a movie and sew a lot, Neverland continues to make slow but steady progress and I imagine I’ll probably finish the first quadrant by the end of the Alaska season. On my not-so-good girl nights I hang out with the band in the OB, field a lot of drink offers (some of which I actually accept, though I usually stick to soda) till way too late at night and lose perpetually at darts.
Ah the glamour of the job.