Well, camp has been pretty damn awesome.
At the beginning of the week, I was grateful that I would have a month between now and my working month to relax. Now, I just want to go back. It’s hard work, first year staff are very evidently not considered to be anything short of labor, and I’ve been sleeping on the floor and living out of my car. The coffee is watery shit. Most the people I’ve met and liked are working different sessions than me, and my feet have been killing me. But something about the place is just gorgeous. The land, yes, the activities, the food. There’s something more, though, which is currently serving to pique my camp craving. A lot of people like my hair. They think I’m a great artist (one of them bought an unfinished, unframed drawing for seventy dollars). A couple of them sing my name whenever I walk by. I’ve found fellow coffee addicts, so we can detox in unity. It’s so many little things, and, I agree, they’re stupid. But they’re making it so easy to think of this as a series of shared moments. The campers are coming in tomorrow, and a lot will be different then. I think, though, that even when the work gets tough, the kids get crazy, the sleep is minimal, and my feet are about to fall off, I’ll be just as in love with this place as I am now.
