Seniority's Price Tag

Last week my roommate left. So for the first time since my first three days on the ship I was able to sleep in the bottom bunk. Since I am in the back cubicle of our six-birth I do have a bit more moving space (think 2 feet) than the front two cubicles. This space is precious and no joke when this narrow, windowless cubicle is your entire living space for a year. So it was with pleasure that I claimed the bottom bunk and the entire back cubicle for myself! After checking the housing spreadsheet I realized that my six-birth would at most have five people allowing me to keep this space to myself (currently there are three of us with a fourth coming in next week).

Before leaving my roommate Elizabeth asked how I would pull off keeping the back space to myself. I reassured her that I could and I would. But then as my date of staking my claim came closer I realized that having a strategy and argument in my favor was not a bad idea. Luckily, I needed neither and my roommates have graciously allowed me the space without a second thought. But my argument was going to be seniority. After 11 months, of sharing this space, and sleeping on the top bunk I felt this was an earned reward. And the two other ladies have only been here for a month they would probably have had very little room for arguing.

Yesterday I was re-evaluating my argument and realized that I own Deck 3! I have been on this deck the longest out of everyone now that Elizabeth is gone and have at least 3 months on the next person. So I have named myself the Queen of Deck 3 but have also realized that owning your own kingdom does bring responsibilities. I ran this thought past Mary Lou, the official ship grandma and most amazing left over hippie I know, and she agreed. She mentioned that she had to speak to one of the young ladies at the beach this past weekend who had a non-MSA (Mercy ship Approved) bathing suit on. I caught myself the other day almost speaking to a young lady who works in the Dining Room who was suspected of wearing Ward scrubs as casual clothing (she was cleared of these charges after we learned that she was volunteering with the Eye Team for a few days).

It is weird to have leadership thrust upon you. I often get it because I have a bit of a strong personality and have always been a natural leader. It is even weirder earning the responsibility and undesired responsibility by default. Having to set the example or enforce the rules simply because you have served the longest is not easy and not always fun. Even people who like leadership do not always enjoy when they have to use their authority in a negative way (besides Donald trump very few bosses enjoy firing people). A few weeks ago I had to go enforce the dress code to one young lady (these new girls seem to insist on breaking, bending and altering the rules - young whipper snappers). Our skirts and shorts are suppose to cover our knees, even when sitting, and she was wearing a skirt that did not cover her knees while standing. I was going to let this slide since it was not blatantly short. But then she sat on one of the couches and proceeded to bend her legs under her! What was happening in her head I am not sure. But this forced my hand and I had to tell her about her skirt and how to sit like a lady in one. I felt like my mom (love you mom). It was awkward. I guess that awkward, weird, undesired feeling and the need to enforce the rules is the price of seniority.