It’s strange to think that we’re in the home stretch. So much has happened in what is comparatively a short period of time, I’ve seen so much, lived so much, done so much. Changed so much. A different woman looks back at me from the mirror these days, and there are times when I’m unsure whether or not I’ve adjusted to her presence. If I think too much about the steps that have been made, the events that have occurred, the things I’ve done and the people I’ve done them with, my head starts to spin and I’m still moving too quickly to risk getting dizzy this late in the game.
As usual, when a contract winds to a close, I’m ready to go home. Unlike most of my co-workers, I’m one of the few crewmembers who still has nearly a month left in her contract – a result of the off-set that was caused by my starting this contract later than the rest of them – but the World Cruise I’ve been on for the last few months wraps up in only 9 days. I’ve given no thought to what I might do when I get home, there’s too much still going on ship-side to start thinking about that just at the moment.
There are things to do at home of course, chief among which is filming the last introduction to my audition reel so that I can finally send it off to the company that casts the shipboard entertainment. They don’t usually cast from video submissions, so I don’t carry too much of a torch for success in that department, but I need to finish it – if only so that I can get to LA for a live audition with a clear conscious. But that’s in the future. So many things are always in the future.
Passengers have asked me in the last few days about how the turn-over will work when we reach the states. I always shake my head at the look of amazement on their faces when I tell them that the rundown of the “day from hell” (as we so lovingly call debark/embark) goes something along the lines of: passengers off in the morning, “A-team” crew off after that, two or three hour gap for cleaning and prep-time, new crew on, new pax manifest loaded…voyage 300 commences.
On top of which there will be drills, and traffic director training, coast guard inspection and housekeeping inspection. By the time the grids go up on the library shelves on the afternoon of the 26th, there won’t be a trace element of the previous voyage left – despite the fact that this voyage is the longest, and the most prestigious, that the line has to offer.
There is no break in this life, there is no lay-over, as I’ve said before, time on ships is liquid crystal, and we can’t afford to let it slip away from us.
The other things I have to think of when I get home? Laying aside funds to buy a proper Halloween costume that will be suitable for the Grand Voyage in September, something that’s flirty but guest friendly. I’m taking suggestions on that one. Cheshire Cat? Masquerade? Something that packs light and wears well, so hoop skirts are out. Doing 4 months worth of laundry before repacking everything for the restart in June. Deciding whether or not I really want highlights in my hair…somewhere in there, I’ll have time to Christmas shop, time to have coffee with friends I’ve not seen in what feels like years, time to let the other people in my life adjust to the newest version of me…
Life goes on…just that my life is a little different than some others. But how boring would life be if we were all the same?
So it is that I sit here, finishing the last of the inventory that head office has requested from us, making the last phone calls and sending emails out to the network of contacts that drifts around the world like an ever-moving net on the ocean, watching the sun set over the oceans of Spain – and I find myself thinking, quite simply:
What next?