February 16

It is totally feeling like the end. In this town of 1,000 people, nearly 100 folks are leaving every other day. The last flight out is on the 23rd, then one flight in April and the next flight isn't until August. I think it's all so fascinating.

I feel like I've grown into McMurdo, like I've been living this life for years. Eating every meal in the same cafeteria, knowing what to wear for -20 temps as opposed to how to dress for -5. Working 54 hours each week, no trees or children or pets. Dusty roads and big trucks and drunken firefighters wandering the halls. It's all so familiar to me, maybe too familar.

I like to wonder what it will be like to stand on the sidewalk in Christchurch, to see and hear and feel the traffic, the trees, the humid weather, brick buildings and grass. I'm excited.

The day shift has been going fine. I clean the same dormitory each morning and in the afternoon I clean one of the work centers I cleaned on nights. I worked in the warehouse one day and helped move couches another. I appreciate being able to mix it up a little bit and get different assignments. Who knew one could get so excited about moving heavy furniture?

My clustermates have slowly been making their way back to Christchurch, some planning to return to the ice next year and others happy to be finished with Antarctica. Everyone has fantastic post-ice travel plans, many with plans to travel for months and months. I've enjoyed all their company.