Hung out in Dogtown too long

My Stanley summer is finally coming to an end. Stanley really is a magical place, but if you’re stuck with a shitty job, it takes away your lust for life. I know i’m being really melodramatic about it, and part of it is that I’ve always only had freelance or part-time summer jobs, never a real 9-to-5er (or in this case, a 6:30-2:30er). A huge part of Stanley is socializing in the bars at night, meeting new people, planning adventures, listening to country music, and occasionally drinking (resort towns are far too expensive to get drunk at the bar every night.) I missed out on that part of it, partly because I felt bad that Josh couldn’t go, but mostly because my body and mind were so tired from waiting on 200 people that day that I just wanted to go home and sleep. I might come back here again, because it’s a great place, but I definitely wouldn’t hire on to the Swillage again. It’s far too hectic for what it was, and if I’m in Stanley, I’m gonna enjoy it, goddamn it.

I’m now entering a brief liminal period filled with gear shopping, trying on boots, buying long underwear, reviewing itineraries, and entering the long wave-train of paperwork, Raytheon orientations, and flight-layover-flight-layover-flight-layover-ICE-type schedules. Then it will be a new chapter of my life, filled with hard labor, endless days (literally, the sun doesn’t set), and bitter, bitter cold. I’m pumped!