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Day 5: Can I get a connection?

I go to the library early thinking I’ll get some work done, only to find that the WiFi continues to be unresponsive. Incredibly frustrating for the $500 I had spent on the “premium” internet, so at 6:30AM I am at the pursor’s office for a refund, which I receive.

We eat breakfast at 7:30 again - room service again - with mom making her leap from bed to bathroom to hide while I answer the door, as is now our daily dance.

At 8, I am at yoga. A much smaller crew this year including my new friend Gail, and we move through sun salutations as the boat slightly sways. When I get back to the room, mom is watching a very distressing movie about the parents involved in a school shooting - victim and perpetrator - meet to make amends. One actress is the headmistress from “Handmaids’ Tale,” which I find worthy of a double-take.

At 10:15, we are ready to rock out for another round of line dancing lessons, led by a pair of British dancers from the evening performances. The whole thing is a good workout and sort of hilarious, and I am so thankful that my mom is down for participating. She expresses afterward that she’d like to do it every day.

We swing by the spa to book some more hydrotherapy time, then go to the Golden Lion to watch Wimbledon. There, we run into our past dinner mates Joe and his wife from England, where Joe deposits his wife at our table so he can participate in a darts competition. His wife is lovely and we don’t mind a bit, plus she pulls out a needlepoint project from her bag. I am overjoyed to discuss it with her.

Mom and fish and chips, I have chicken tikka masala, and with a Fentiman’s for each of us (rose lemonade for her, ginger for me after news that Dandelion is sold out) we are feeling pretty British as we watch the tennis with our new British friend.

We spend the rest of the afternoon watching tennis from our respective beds and trying to get a bit up to speed on the female players we may see in the final. This devolves into a delicious hour-long nap.

At dinner, we are seated next to a couple from Idaho and chat about cruises. It’s a lovely conversation, after which he declares us “great conversationalists.” I’ll take it. I’m also doing laundry during dinner, a slightly weird affair with communal washers/dryers and British machines that I’m not quite used to using. We figure it out.

Tonight’s performance is a medley of Sting followed by a flutist performance, which we are both wary about attending but end up really enjoying.

I unfortunately keep thinking about work and am struggling to let that go. How do I accept that things may stall in my absence but that they are not the end of the world? Perhaps I overvalue my own role. I do not know.

The sun is rising incredibly early and setting well after 9PM, so this plus the time changes (an hour forward at noon most days) and the endless views of just open ocean are causing me to continue to loose track of time and space.

It is incredibly freeing.

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