A lame pun, but an old stand-by joke from my days of sailing on an oil tanker was accusing a layabout or slow-mover of having 'The Chinese disease' (spoken in a chinease accent, you would then say 'drahgon...ahss").
I'm certainly dragging ass tonight. I'm on a strange vessel, don't know quite where all the doodads and switches are, and I've discovered that the main deck crane is so very, very sensitive. I send that bugger dancing like a spastic kid on cocaine. As I type, we're moored alongside a 1,000ft container ship, and getting ready to head to a loading terminal to take on oil for fueling 3 separate ships, which equates to a mile high pile of paperwork and a certain anxiety regarding the fact that I have no idea how the current management here on board organizes their computer system. One of the best reasons for me to occasionally work extra weeks on strange vessels is that I can familiarize myself with how others do the things I do myself, and find better ways to do my own job well, but that's cold comfort now. Fow now, I'll just be happy to get this thing where it needs to be, and maybe in another 8 hours or so get some decent sleep.
Epistle to Ansgar: Letter 09 God and Being
1 hour ago
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