Melissa. Cannot. Sustain. Bunk life.

The accommodation quarters. Um. I get that cruising is cramped. We all do. But this room is next level. I assume the bunk is *okay* whilst I'm completely sans a beverage.

Then. I spy this jack and the beanstalk like contraption with portable ladder. After a night out. And I chose the chair. Both nights. The climb. Overwhelming through wine goggles. The bed I need to curl up in to fit seems it is in the clouds. My body hurts.

I finally concede with exhaustion (and Dad's kindness), that this isn't sustainable. It is then we learn the bunk is a child's bed.

Meltdown. Justified.

Sleep and cat swinging room delivered with private cabin for Melissa. No cost. Room 420. And the jokes continue re: liberal weed laws in The America's.Read more