At the end of the day you’re another day older
And that’s what you can say for the life of the poor
It’s a struggle it’s a war
and there’s no sign anything’s changing.. – Les Miserables
I love my job. I do. I really do. It’s just…there’s a fine line between working where live, and living where you work, and as this season on the flagship draws to a close, it’s – for reasons still unknown to me – feeling more like the latter than the former. And living where you work is nothing short of exhausting.
I know I’m just in need of time off. I need several hours in a very deep very hot bathtub, and a proper big mug of tea. I need to see my family and hug my best friend, I need to spend a large chunk of time somewhere where the biggest complaint anyone has is that the bus is five minutes late (this is a very common complaint in my hometown). I need to give a bunch of tourist ghost tours that are only two hours long before I send them back to their homes/hotels/ships/whatever and can go home and leave all of it on the front stoop.
There are many things that I would like to say, but I don’t think this is the right spot to air them. While it’s no longer March, and the mid-cruise slump is for the most part over, my own personal threshold is still teetering on the edge of a plummet. I’ve said before that I believe life is made up of lit-up moments in the darkness; I still believe that. And trust me when I say that the lit-up moments this season (swimming with the sharks and sting-rays, flying off the Skytower, clinging to the rigging of the Southern Swan) have all been blindingly brilliant…but the thing about brilliance is that when it’s over your eyes take some time to adjust to the regular light, and until they do, everything seems a little darker – until the next flash of brilliance comes along. Which it always does of course. Eventually.
Sigh
At the end of the day there’s another day dawning…