My television has a screen saver that says, “28 days until the magic”. It might be cute if that were the countdown to when our time in captivity would be ending. But, no, that is the countdown to our Disney cruise. On May 18, I would have been leaving for a fun-filled trip with my family. You know, the testosterone filled individuals that I have been with for over four weeks. Together. In the same house. The only people that I have seen in person. Those people.
Anyway, Disney has cancelled all of the cruises through May except ours. The ship we are slated to be on, ironically called “The Dream”, is holding out hope or magic, if you will. Fun fact, even in the remotest possibility that it isn’t cancelled, there is no way, in hell, I will be boarding that vessel. So, we wait for notification while the countdown clock taunts me. I might give it the finger on occasion.
Am I disappointed? Of course, I am. But I know the timing will work out that we can do another adventure at a later time. You know, one where we haven’t been confined together for 60,000 days.
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