The Isolation Journals - Day 3

Here I am showing up again to keep this 30-day commitment.  I used to have a problem with follow-through.  I had good intentions, but stating them out loud was both sufficient and paralyzing.  I had the idea, isn't that enough?  I could never mobilize and begin with the enormity of the end goal looming above me. 

It turns out the hardest part is just starting.  Forget the idea of perfection, forget the real end goal.  Just start and be consistent.  That realization was dangerous.  I'm a monster now, once I decide I have to do something daily or at least with regularity. 

• Exhibit A:  I have done at least 5 minutes of yoga every day since January 1, 2018.  I can do a tripod headstand and you bet I can (still) put my legs behind my head.  
• Exhibit B:  I'm on day 388 of a Duolingo streak, and can hold lengthy and bizarre conversations about animals wearing clothing, among other impractical skills. 

All this is to say that a mere three days in, I'm warning you it's going to be a full 30 days of daily posting.  Will it be any good?  Probably not!  Will my mom read it?  Yea!  And so it goes.

Prompt #3:  Write a travel journal entry from your home, could be your living room, could be your bed. Write as though you've just arrived in a new place (because, in many ways, you have) and what you're observing about the place and how you feel in it. Write what you see, hear, and touch, as though it's all brand new. What are you learning about yourself in this different land, with all its deprivations? If you'd like to turn this into a visual entry, draw a map complete with notes about this foreign land's customs, rituals, and routines.

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We've traveled all night on Memory Foam Airlines, a budget carrier with no cabin service.  To their credit, there is plenty of leg room, and the pilot was kind enough to let us sleep, saving the announcements for our sunrise landing.

As soon as we deplaned, our luggage was transferred and we boarded a shuttle to the cruise ship.  The ship captain greeted us as we boarded, and it struck us as an odd coincidence that the captain looked identical to the pilot.

We were shuffled into the ship's dining hall, which is also the ship's kitchen, and also the grand ballroom.  There, the cruise director laid out our itinerary.  This is where it starts to get weird, because I swear the cruise director, the captain, and the pilot are one and the same.

Should I have bought trip insurance for this?  I never buy the trip insurance.  I mean, what's the worst that could happen, right?  But this trip itinerary doesn't even have an end date.  The travel agent, who...oh...my god, was also the pilot, the captain, and the cruise director...was really vague about the timeline, among other things.  First we'd be back by mid-April, then April 30th, and now it's just we'll see.

When I asked about packing, the travel agent was no help at all.  What do I bring, I asked.  I've never been on an intra-apartmental cruise of indeterminate length before!  She handed me a sheaf of printed-out news articles from dubious websites that listed items like dried beans, rubbing alcohol, and toilet paper.  

I have to bring my own toilet paper?  What about the amenities?  The excursions?  You're making this sound more like an underground bunker than the trip of a lifetime!

The travel agent/cruise director/ship captain/pilot just yawned, licked her paws, and was suddenly very interested in batting a pipe-cleaner mouse across the floor.

And she's also the sheriff?  I can't even.