Crunch Time

Bill is in high-stress mode. Yesterday, he got an email from a shipmate that sent him into a major tizzy. Seems as though they are going to move the crew from the hotel back to the ship to save money, two weeks into the job. That would put him back on the ship right about the time I would be arriving on the 29th, leaving me with nowhere to stay. I wouldn't even be able to stay with him on the ship, as I have no security clearance.

He raged throughout the day, demanding that I try to get a refund on my ticket (bought on Friday morning), cancel the trip, and expecting me to be as upset as he was. I decided to "just say no."

I said no to cancelling the trip, no to worrying about where I would stay, no to joining in Bill's angst, and no to stressing out.

Where has all this calmness in me come from? I used to be the one who raged, stomped about and tried to wrestle inconvenience and outrage into something I could control and make right. Now, I just float. Is it the anti-depressant? Is it wisdom or faith? The experience with cancer? I'm not sure why I am suddenly a completely different person (Goodbye forever, Type-A personality), but I just can't get upset anymore about things I can't control. My continued health depends on many things, but a positive attitude and a calm, stress-free mental state can't hurt. I just don't worry about any of it anymore.

No luxury hotel? I'll find a cheap one. No per-diem money to play with? I'll use my eBay earnings. My serenity seemed only to fuel Bill's panic, and he kept ramping up the descriptions of all the dire scenarios he anticipated. I finally had to tell him to keep his blankety-blank negativity to himself, as he was making me crazy and super-annoyed. I was sure it would all work out, and by golly, I was going to have my Singapore vacation no matter what.

Sure enough, he received another email late last night, where his shipmate gave more details, and reassured him that it was okay to "bring the wife out," as Bill was scheduled for the night shift, and they wouldn't move the night workers back to the ship because there was no way they could sleep during the day when the ship was being torn apart. Bill finally relented his distress over that and went on to worry about other things he could do nothing about.

So, if Bill is on the midnight to 8am shift, we will be having lunches together instead of dinners, and I will play tourist while he is sleeping, instead of while he's working. This is easy. We'll work it out.

Now the floor is strewn with clothes and toiletries, staging for a final packing of the seabag. I have resisted packing for myself, until Bill is gone and life is a little quieter. I've been making lists and putting things away, cooking up perishables and taking out the trash. I like coming home to a clean house, and there's just no point in trying to do that until he's gone.

If I can just keep him from going ballistic for two more days, we should be fine, and I can get on with my plan of becoming an International Woman of Intrigue.