My coffee has become extremely special to me. It used to be that I'd drink coffee every day, in the morning, when I got home from work, after dinner. Now that it's a nuisance to make it I rarely find myself sitting down to spend some quality time with my coffee. I anticipate the few stolen moments I have with a mug of freshly ground, freshly brewed with spring water, cowboy-black coffee.
I plan for it. I schedule my day around it. Today: 10am, Cruise Division Safety Meeting; 10:30am Tech Meeting for Dreamscape cast and crew; 12pm, Flying Rehearsal with Chris; 1pm, Lunch in the mess; 2pm, Maintenance on the Promenade wth the cherry picker; 4pm Flying Rehearsal with Martine and Mayicia; 4:45 - 6pm, coffee. So I lock myself in the Studio B SM office, grind some Sumatra (I'm out of Blue Mountain), smoke a cigarette with my first sip in the back of The Vault (completely empty and dark at this time of the day), and come back to the office to do lj, email, and me things.
It's so good. From the first sip I can feel it electrify me; if it's possible to feel every artery and capillary in my body then I know that I just did as soon as it passed over my tongue; chills... electric... goosebumps. It's been a few days since my last coffee experience so I'm going to be hyperactive for about an hour after this.
I can never abstain completely. I might hold back, I might make my body wait for the pleasure, but it's inevitable that I'll cave, that my willpower will falter, that I'll find myself partaking without knowing how I got there, the chain of events which brought me here just a hazy, blurry, echo of drunken time, leading me toward one singular moment of bliss and sensual warmth.
Some day I'll put some more effort into that, elminate the references to coffee, and make it sound like I'm some kind of nymphomaniac, but for now I'm just going to sip my mug.
Life is rapidly souring. Everyone I know is leaving. Fox left last week, Garrett, J.D., and Darwin are leaving Saturday, and Andy will be gone in a few weeks. Desmond is coming back (ew), Charlene is coming back (ew), and Ramson is coming back (no opinion except that he wasn't supposed to be returning to the Voyager after stalking Sweet Marie). Sweet Marie will be back soon, but... eh. I'm left with... no one. Except the girls. The dancers. E.J. and Lani. Chet. Kara, Kylie, Rachel, and Melissa. But all of them are performers and there's only so much of "that" which I can take. I need "the guys," techies, down to earth, regular guys to hang out with sometimes. I don't really like any people that are returning (some I dislike more than others), and the people left aren't... I don't know. Aren't my kind of people.
We're starting massive Dreamscape rehearsals again. The Install was only supposed to last two weeks, but we've had a partial week off and this Saturday another choreographer is getting onboard and we're beginning "intense" reahearsals... again. After that week is over Jon Shaw (Poppa) and Jan Thomas (the woman from Head Office who is in charge of ALL the tech and stage staff for Royal Caribbean) to do "major maintenance" and clean up a lot of personnel problems.
The remaining month of my contract is going to be hell.