It would seem that there should be no such thing as regular routine… or rather, there should be small regular routines enveloped by a non-matching mishmash of experience and ideas. Keeps the brain wandering (if not organised) and healthy.

The weekend has been spent in celebration, desperation and intrepidation. We returned this evening from Hubert’s last IC presidential cruise, and I certainly had not consumed enough alcohol to ignore the dire state of the institution. These gilded, gambling ships with extreme processed fish buffet mark. 2 are, in all honesty, down right depressing. Once you stop to clean up the puke and consider the over muscled buzzcut checking his moves in a Police t-shirt  in the not-so-subtly mirrored elevator door, the polish seems to loose it’s unholy shine and the temptation to jump overboard kicks in. How people survive a summer in service is beyond me. 24 hours of obscenely overweight and grey complexioned fruit-machine players have left me running on empty.

The fact that this gargantuain ship sits in calm open water  for several hours while the majority down drinks in the disco is astounding. That even after the Romanesque all you can eat protein buffet these machines are making money is just testament to the rip off of duty-free shopping; a rip off I gladly partake in because… it is naturally cheaper than buying wine at Syestemet! I am beginning to wonder however if the TLC for my wallet is doing irreparable damage to my soul.

The most terrifying part of the whole charade is that the average age on these wonder-cruises is SIGNIFICANTLY OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER! They walk around dry skinned and hair frazzled after 12 hours of ‘fantastic party atmosphere’ and a lifetime of “preventative” beauty products. Good gracious, who do they think they are kidding? Sadly, they are most likely only kidding themselves - that this is a worthwhile way to spend Sveriges Nationaldag, or any other for that matter!

Retreated into conversation with Hubert. Plans and the value of belly laughter.

Tomorrow is interview day. Make or break time for my role in the MDH IC. It is an opportunity I crave, because I believe there has to be a better way. There are people here to dare to think outside the tax-free-shopping-box. And their experiences can be shared so my dear friends do not end up like those 40-something beyond all hopers, who while away empty hungover hours at the slot machines. Life is here for the taking - but it’s a lot easier with a little encouragement and support!

So off to bed I go. Good sleep and a goal. Tomorrow is an other day to put the best foot forward.

(Incidentally, I have been reading about the Swedish Institute of Eugenics for much of the evening and can’t help wondering what the hell is going on in this world?!?)