Square Peg ● Round Hole







Did you all miss me? I certainly felt the void. Such an odd feeling when I disconnect from the writing process, but like everyone, I needed a break. A little distance from reality. But, with any sort of timeout, there are always stories. Of course, what happens on the ship, stays on the ship, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to tell on myself. There is nothing more attractive than the ability to not take yourself so seriously.

The first day on the ship was exciting. Everyone, all twenty-eight of us, were thrilled to see each other. New faces, ladies that I haven’t connected with in a long time, along with some very good friends was the ideal recipe for a little rest and relaxation. My appendage even got into the act. One of my sweet friends, brought stickers so the ugly gray boot would look more festive.

I ventured back to the cabin only to find that I was lost. Directions are not my gift. Before I left, I lost my car in the parking lot, so this really should not be a surprise. My cabin was on deck 2 aft. What the truck (please feel free to rhyme it with the word the begins with F) does that mean? My father, the naval officer, would be so disappointed. But, never fear, I figured it out. You see, aft is the rear of the ship and I was coming from the front or forward if you are being ship proper. Whatever. I am wandering around aimlessly. Dragging my decorated appendage and trying to appear as if I knew where I was going. God forbid I ask someone. Plus, with all the standing and walking, my ankle was basically giving me the finger.

On each floor, there were interactive screens where you could put in your cabin number and it would help you locate it. Unfortunately, even that was not my saving grace. The one on my actual floor was not working properly. Sigh. I wish Dora the Explorer and her helpful map were with me. In my head, I kept hearing “recalculating” as if I had an internal GPS. Finally, I figured it out and found the promise land aka my cabin.

A few days later, after spending some time on the beach of the cruise ship’s private island, one of my friends and I ventured back to shower and ready ourselves for the last night of our trip. We were chatting and laughing as we presented our cards to gain entrance. As they scanned her card, they were kind enough to let us know that we were indeed on the wrong ship. Damn it, Dora. Where are you and that damn map when I am in need? While the greeter gave us the look of “you all are dumbasses”, we proceeded to laugh until tears streamed down our faces. I might be directionally challenged, but at least I can find humor in it.

While I loved my girl time, coming home always fill me up. Not only do I find gratitude for the life I have when I step back from it, but I always know that I won’t get lost in my house. It’s the little things.