Life’s been mostly smooth sailing for Monica Brzoska and her husband, Jorell Conley.
Since selling all their worldly possessions, ditching the daily 9-to-5 grind and becoming full-time cruisers, the toughest decision the seafaring sweeties have had to face each day is whether to luxuriate around an oceanliner’s pools or its spas.
“All my meals are cooked by chefs, and staff change my bedding,” bragged Brzoska, 32, an ex-teacher from Memphis, Tennessee, to The Sun. “I haven’t stepped into a kitchen or used a washing machine for a year.”
“I’m not a millionaire,” she added. “I just live full-time on cruise ships.”
Brzoska did not immediately respond to The Post’s request for comment.
However, while floating to exotic sandy locations as staffers supply her every need seems like a dream, she admits that life on the water can sometimes be a drip.
“There are challenges, of course,” conceded the blond. “We miss our families but know we can fly home if there’s an emergency.”
In fact, a family crisis inspired the voyaging lovers to set permanent sail two years ago.
“I was desperate to see the world,” said Brzoska. “When my dad Andrzej, now 68, needed a liver transplant in August 2022, my mom Lucyna, 60, said to me: ‘Don’t wait for retirement to follow your dreams. Do it now.’”
With her parents’ blessing, the holiday-making millennials — who met during a teaching gig in July 2015 and tied the knot in July 2020 — said “bye-bye” to the rat race and “aye-aye” to luxury boating.
“We already had a week-long Caribbean cruise booked for March 2023,” said Brzoska. “Instead of coming back, why not keep booking consecutive cruises for as long as we could afford to?”
The wave riders carefully calculated the costs prior to taking the plunge. They’ve ultimately managed to make their ocean motion work for less than $10,000 a year.
“Accommodations, food and entertainment would be included — we’d only need spending money,” said Brzoska.
She and Conley, 36, had previously taken a series of week-long Carnival cruises to hotspots such as Mexico, Belize, Grand Cayman and Costa Rica. The twosome’s frequent floating awards them massive discounts on future trips.
“We’d earned access to some amazing offers,” Brzoska gushed. “If we chose the cheapest cabins, our savings from the pandemic would allow us to book eight months of cruising for $9,989.19 — some trips paid for in full, others with deposits.”
To keep their incoming cash flow steady, the out-and-about honeys rent out their three-bedroom house in Memphis.
Brzoska says leaving life on land has been a “freeing” experience.
“Before, there had always been lesson plans, cooking and cleaning,” she said. “But all of that [is] gone.”
Rather than being preoccupied with work and chores, Brzoska now spends her days enjoying craft activities, playing trivia quiz games and busting a gut at comedy shows offered on the boat.
Her hubby, too, finds happiness watching television and chatting up fellow passengers at the bar.
Taking their marriage to the high seas has made holy matrimony a splash.
“Without the daily stresses of life, we rarely argued,” Brzoska said, “but always told each other if we needed space or more time together.”
The nonstop tourists have even scheduled a weekly date night, during which they don their best duds to dine at one of the fancier onboard restaurants.
Plus, it’s kinda hard to quarrel while sightseeing in some of the most fabulous corners of the world.
Since setting adrift, the adventurous darlings have visited dozens of countries, including Fiji, Japan and Greece. In the last year, they’ve been on 36 consecutive cruises — often disembarking from one watercraft to jump on another at the same port.
And they’re far from the only jet-setters to make life on-the-go a part of their love story.
Couple Marcel Popp, 33, and Vendula Zakova, 31, recently quit their jobs to explore the globe together just two days after meeting on vacation in Vietnam.
And New Yorkers Matt Robertson and Khani Le threw caution to the wind on their third date, taking an impromptu excursion to Costa Rica — only to be stuck on the island for nearly four months during the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It was a crazy, surreal experience,” Robertson told The Post.
Brzoska agrees, crediting her new world on water with brightening things up.
“In our old life, we’d have moments we called ‘glimmers,’ when everything seemed magical,” she said. “Now I feel like my whole life is a glimmer — it really is a dream come true.”
