Most people on ships agree that the common factor between us is that we are all running away from something. There are reasons we end up signing our lives away for months at a time to live in dark, cramped conditions at sea. During my medical leave I’ve been able to pinpoint exactly what it is that I’m running from or avoiding by working on ships. My mother. She’s a lot easier to take in small doses over a phone line, with a continent between us.
My health has vastly improved, I no longer have kennel cough and I can walk the small burg of Salem without wheezing. It is time to return to my 16 hour work days in pleated, tapered, khaki man pants.
2 comments:
it's about goddamn time.
for once, I agree with him
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