Home Stretch

Post-holidays, it always feels as though the season is careening downhill to the finish.  People solidify post-Ice travel plans and scramble to apply for next year’s jobs (not to mention upcoming summer jobs back in the states).  At this point, the toll of accumulated net loss of sleep, battle of attrition with staying hydrated, and state of simultaneous pale-yet-sunburned skin is impossible to brush aside. 

Who's got two flappy arms and a chill chill vibe?  This guy.

But take heart, ye lads and lasses—there’s still six weeks of eternal sunshine, with gobs of fun to be had.  My daytime schedule has opened many fun avenues, including singing.  The week was full to the brim.  Play (and win) a ‘lil trivia and euchre; clomp around the gym in a stranger’s worn out sneakers and shoot a few hoops; marvel at a friend’s travelogue about running a marathon in North Korea; delight in the creative works at the McMurdo Alternative Art Gallery (bonus: a hot tip about ten penguins down the road); sip a beer to the dulcet tones of various guitar-playing carpenters, the shop machinery and tools artfully draped with canvas to create an industrial-warehouse-club-vibe.

Even during work, I luck out and pull my van over so various passengers and I can observe a lone emperor penguin navigating a hiking trail.  And when I happen to get the 2pm run, it’s a chance to chat with lovely galley friends, who maybe bestow an extra filet mignon on me as they tidy the kitchen before we leave.

And to completely banish thoughts of the season ending, spend a glorious eight-hour softball tournament amongst ribald hecklers, laughing through heavy snow and random bird attacks, grinning beneath your scarf when the boy you like hits his sixth home run of the day, and when he sprints to catch a drive to the outfield, and when he high-fives his teammates, victorious, and you are happy together in this place.