My last night on the cruise ship I decided to watch the stars on the pool deck by myself. With Andrea Bocelli blaring in my iPod, found a lounge chair on the empty deck and lay on my back.  At some point, I closed my eyes to savor the moment.  

Eventually I thought I heard yelling in the distance so I opened my eyes.  Four male crew members were standing over me, holding empty wine bottles and shaking their heads. Apparently the deck chair I choose was the prior scene of a small party, but to them it looked like I was drowning my sorrows.  Really drowning my sorrows.  In the dark, I’d somehow missed all the bottles surrounding me.  I tried explaining that they weren’t mine, but they weren’t buying it.  Especially when I stumbled over while trying to stand on my still sleeping legs.  In my head I was hoping my final night may turn out like the happy parts of Titanic, but it was more like Bridget Jones minus Colin Firth.