... is more.
Tomorrow I go back to the HQ. I ended up staying on the former HQ for 2 weeks, and it was pretty successful, but the close quarters and utter lack of privacy or quiet time finally got to me 2 days ago. Claustrophobia, sadly timed with a cold snap here in the northeast that made going outside in the ever-to-be-damned constant frigging high winds even less pleasant than normal.
Well, tomorrow I go back to the HQ. And while we have a load fixed for tomorrow night, I hope to get a few hours to catch a nap before taking over the watch. Because it is crew change, my company chose to leave us as far away as possible rather than put us at our usual anchorage a bare few miles from Brooklyn. Even if it is a major inconvenience to them, they always do so on crew change days. No fucking way it's accidental.
But oh well, I'm on my last watch, and we finished the work part of the watch, wrapping up a discharge and making all fast in lovely Newark NJ with no shore access. I should have a quiet few hours when the others go to bed and get the F out of the galley so I can relax... well, it's their galley, too, not just mine, but I'm really looking forward to the quiet.
So, yeah, I'm riding the struggle bus a bit these last few days, and trying not to be overly grumpy, but I'm actually REALLY trying to be nice.
Stop laughing, I'm not lying. I'm trying. And not always succeeding. Even so, the guys themselves are pleasant company, I'm the one who probably isn't. And the idea of doing this again makes me want to fellate a handgun to completion. I've apologized a half dozen times for being distracted and quiet.
I'm approaching middle age. This shit is just cruel.
Anyhow, I'm ok. I'll be better when I am on the HQ and facing down the prospect of 4 more weeks before heading home.
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