Last time I'll do this?

I had a notion in the back of my head that starting this contract would be sort of a balance between my other two contracts. On one hand, I already know the Noordam; I’m accustomed to the way things work, I understand the layout…it’ll work. Then again, I’m signed up for seven months, so in a sense I have no clue what I’m getting myself into. This contract will last literally the length of both my past contracts, plus two months. Like I said, balance.
I suppose then it should be a comfort that the day before I jump on the ship was a bit of a “gong show”, my favorite new term I’ve learned since working for Holland America. However, “gong show” can just as nearly be defined as my own term, a bit of “fuckery,” if you will. (Sorry, mom…but, hey, it’s creative, right?)
Before I even left for the airport I found out that my first flight was delayed an hour, giving me about half an hour to catch my connecting flight to Ft. Lauderdale (airline speak for “not gonna happen”). Thankfully, a graceful angel at the U.S. Airways desk booked me a new itinerary through Philly. All signs point to victory! Except the second flight was severely overbooked, delaying departure for another hour as they powers that be sorted through this segment of (look away, mom!) fuckery. (Side note: on the flight to Lauderdale I was surrounded by children, little children, equipped with cell phones. Really, now. Is that necessary? Do they need the hook up that badly? I digress…) I was lucky enough to escape the airport with my luggage (after waiting a heart-attack inducing length of time waiting for my guitars), only to take a $50 cab ride to a Quality Inn hidden far better than any government-based alien research facility you or I will ever speculate about.
But, hey, I’m here! And I had my good luck Guinness! And I’m in a lovely little Indian restaurant! And I’m going for another Guinness afterwards! I’d say this clearly redeems the day at hand. The flights actually happened, guitars are in solid condition, the ship will reimburse me for the taxi fee, I had my Irish nectar, and I’m being well-fed at 9:30 at night. All smiles, I suppose, right? The ends justify the means? Thank you, Cleveland, goodnight?

Cheers. Everything’s going to be alright.