early to mid 20s – waiting for my ship to come in. (I love you, Ship.)

late 20s – still waiting but kinda forgetting about that ship because my job takes up most of my dreaming time. (If I had some money, I woulda had you by now, Ship. I coulda bought my way to you. Damnit.)

early 30s – hey!?! There is no ship coming. Disillusionment/despair. (I hate you, Ship.)

mid 30s – had some babies. They are way cooler than the ship. Who cares about the ship? Nothing to see here but a big sea of love. Blue skies. Big ocean. (Go away, Ship.)

late 30s – the big reveal…there is no such thing as “your ship coming in.” But here’s the deal: you want your ship to come in? You’d better go get it. (Get ready, Ship.)

early 40s – Hey, Ship. Yeah, YOU. I’m comin’ for you and I have a huge f*cking rope and hundreds of friends on my side and we are gonna drag you in. You can run, but you can’t hide. (Get in me belly, Ship.)