You remember hearing, are we there yet, ad infinitum, from the back seat. And everyone recalls that the true measure of eternity is the eon from bedtime Christmas Eve until daylight Christmas morning. They pace incessantly, pack and repack, preen and re preen. No one sleeps until Sunday so don't even think about peacefully enjoying a cup of coffee, unless standing in line and fighting the crowd is the aim. Even my bridge wing sanctuary is crowded with oily snipes who haven't ventured from their engine room lair in days.
People have their noses pressed to the bridge windows like children staring into the candy shop.
They want to know precisely where we are now, and they will request the same information again in just five minutes. What a shock to learn that in defiance of all know natural laws, the ship can be answering ahead full and steering a northerly course, while traveling a reciprocal, southerly path. Thank goodness, there are no busier times for cadets than the final days of the Sea Term, or all might be lost. This malady is caused when the want to lie in the Caribbean sunshine overcomes the need to study. Unfortunately, the effects of this disorder do not manifest themselves until much later, when the afflicted are nearly beyond help.