We're bunkering a VLCC. I feel wicked small. Very nice crew, which is always nice. The engineer on watch insisted that we get on a first name basis, and I was invited to the officer's mess for a drink. Sadly, I declined. GD Alaska, jumping in front of someone's damn tanker.
Anyhow, drinkless and everything, it's a beautiful sunny day. I'm sort of waiting for some kind of other shoe to drop, like the toilet seat catching fire or something. Don't know what's making me glum. Could be the channel fever. I've got it wicked bad. See? I'm even starting to write like we talk at home. Anyhow, 5 more days, then a wicked hahd ride home through NY, but I'll be home.
It'll be pissa.
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