12:31 p.m. Have had lots of moments worthy of a journal entry but no will to write it out.

There are days where I feel like a sponge, soaking up other people's struggles.

For example, our housekeeper at work. The first one working when I started was promptly fired because we failed the white glove inspection. Another was hired and like the other, she wore a glumy face. A face I'm all too familar with from my experience on a ship.

One day I started a conversation with her in the bathroom. I asked where she was from because she was teaching one of our staff some basic spanish. Columbia. She arrived to Canada a year ago, but is frustrated. English isn't her first language and she's frustrated because of the bind she's in. She has to work. She wants to save money to bring her daughter here. But while she's working, she doesn't have the time to take courses during the day. She cried and I hugged her and offered to find out if there are any groups that can help. Working as a cleaner, she says, doesn't allow her to practise English. She also added that everyone in the Columbian community don't speak English. Or perhaps chooses not to.

For some reason I feel compelled to help. The people I work with don't truly understand what it's like to move to a new country, not know the language and survive. Not that I have first-hand experience, but I do have empathy.