The Interlude

How lovely it is to be home. I profoundly appreciate the time I have to spend with family & friends. I’m laughing till my stomach hurts, which I haven’t done in such a long time. Which is an absolute shame because it’s one of my favourite things to do.

It is an utter luxury to have my own room & to be able to get into bed without concussing myself incarcerated by the suffocating low ceilings.

Sweet, glorious freedom.

I can’t get enough of it.

Walking to visit a friend with a bottle of wine or even going to the cinema is such a treat to my senses. Cooking! Driving! Grocery shopping! Speaking the same language as the people surrounding me!  Striking conversation effortlessly with strangers! Oh the simple pleasures. I am on my knees begging to be engulfed with the unassuming, normal reality of life.

I do not miss the daily, relentless, soul purging cleaning & chores. On reflection I don’t know how I put up with the mindless tedious schedule. I relish the power of not feeling owned. A call from a crew recruitment agency about an upcoming position quickly affirms that it’s too soon to even contemplate going back to yachting. I am not going to relinquish this new found free rein. I badly need a break – It’s a prerequisite to my sanity and transitory bliss.

Now to catch up on a years worth of gossip with my friends, laughs, family time, appointments with my dentist, doctor, health clinic, hairdresser, vet (for my dog, not me), backdated babysitting duties….. A massive clear out of all my unsuspecting accumulated belongings is an inevitable long overdue task. Here’s to my break from work & putting some graft into organising myself and catching up on my Irish life.

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