Twenty-Five
Thalia Island, Melting Pot
I cherry-pick through Rupert’s list for stuff I know I can manage, making calls and moving maintenance crews around where they’re needed per Finan’s and Kelly’s urgent texts and calls. I spend two hours on the phone with Jeremiah about Lutris and the Wi-Fi, and he’s actually super nice. I’m relieved he isn’t a jerk, considering I know very little about networks or IP addresses or servers or Wi-Fi towers or a bunch of other terms and checks he tries to walk me through.
When we’re off the phone, I quietly download a countdown app for my office Mac and sync it to today’s date—and the date I will be finished with Thalia Island. Assuming I will be leaving by noon on my last day here, the clock sits at 349 days. There’s an option for hours, minutes, and
