With the holidays behind me, I left home yesterday evening holding a curious mix of regret and satisfaction; my time at home was wholly successful and full of activity; regrets came in the form of a significantly thinned wallet and leaving the family for another month.
Most often, in my ride from Boston's 'burbs to Brooklyn, I get on the highway wishing very much that I was delivering newspapers or working at McDonalds in my hometown. By the time I hit the RI border, some 40 minutes later, I'm OK, and by Connecticut, I'm looking forward to getting the hell out of Connecticut and on board my floating tin can. Thoughts of home are relegated to pleasant past for the time being.
As I type, we are loading cargo in Bayonne New Jersey, a draft load that will put us within arms' reach to the water, which is intriguing in its' own right; it's good to be back to work, doing what I do. My liver needs a break. I enjoyed the hell out of my time at home.
The Holidays this year were mostly celebrated Brazilian-style; among family and loved ones, running far into the next morning. Christmas was a 36-hour affair that I will remember very fondly. Christmas eve started off with a world-class hangover, so it was a low-hanging fruit sort of situation anyhow; it was just nice not to feel like ass that evening.
I bought a big-screen TV and sound system for the living room at the Ant Farm; I assembled the ridiculously overpriced table for the TV (still pressboard? for $400 I should be getting at least some actual dead trees instead of laminated recycled sawdust), plugged everything in, lugged the TV in (no mean feat- this thing is twice the size of the largest TV I ever owned), programmed the TV and handed it off to my wife, which will be the last time I probably ever handle the remote; TV holds little interest to me, so why my wife insists that the talking heads be full-sized remains a mystery. Anyhow, yeah. Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife and The Boy enjoyed their presents. I got a Navy-Issue peacoat that fits like a warm, classy glove. Got to visit with family, including my oldest nephew, home from his first cruise at sea, a 'round the world trip on the shakedown cruise of the George HW Bush, our newest aircraft carrier. I'm proud as hell at how much he's grown up. My youngest nephew is also growing up; he's currently not speaking to me as I forgot to return his copy of the latest Transformers movie; his favorite film ever. As he's 4, I'm fairly certain that playing with the cardboard boxes his presents came in will be a balm to his preoccupation.
In the meanwhile, something awful stupid happened last night; I, a consummate consumer and passionate addict to caffeine, overdosed on it last night. I spent the night with cramps, and then chills and sweats, rather than sleeping before my first watch. Again, however, not feeling like shit is enough of a reward that being a little tired today is no big deal.
New Years' day's Blogger lunch was fantastic; I met great people, put some faces to names, and was singularly impressed by how much I immediately liked everyone I met. 'nuff said, beyond that I wish I could be there for the big dinner this weekend.
So it goes.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
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Shipping out is always the worst. Its that first Monday after the weekend, knowing that when the clock strikes 5 you'll still be at work.
Still as much as I always made it up to be the end of the world it was never that bad, and it beats the hell out of McDonalds.
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