So... I'm suffering from motivational issues here in terms of writing. I'm having issues at work.
There's no such thing as a day off on the water. There are cargo-free days; not as many as I might like, but I have them, days when I can get caught up on the stuff I need to do. Today being such a day, we're at the yard at Brooklyn HQ having a little steel work done. I only managed about 2 1/2 hours sleep yesterday, and 3 the day before. Trouble sleeping, and an assist tug from another company that had a habit of bashing into us when I was trying to nap. Left me feeling soggy and hard to light.
So, last night, and those sausages for lunch I taked about? Spicy. Too much jalepeno but not too much burn on the way down. Today, however, it's like I have an invisible tether keeping me 20ft from the head. I don't want to be too far, and even so, no one wants to stay in the house what with the screaming and crying and cursing God that's going on. I have to take a watch off from my walking what with my buscuits being burnt up and all.
Anyhow, one of our brandy newie main cargo pump diesels is in need of servicing, and there's a nice cargo hatch not 20 feet away if I can't make it back to the deckhouse.
My mother was right. I just should have been a fuckin' pimp.
I'll check in after I have a nice seat in an ice bucket.
Lost on the Last Continent, Episode 20, Prison Pit
10 minutes ago