And I have finally finally gotten sea legs!
I don't feel the ship moving.
Granted, the English Channel is probably a lot smoother than the other seas we've been through.
I threw up on the voyage from Dublin - Cardiff. My first time. ( and that right after I tried taking the pill for the first time. )
"Boss, I just vomited for the very first time on a voyage."
But then it seems I have 'gained' tolerance because of that inside-out incident.
I'm totally a-okay on this journey.
I can even read, write, type and not feel anything - which is a lot.
So yayy :)
This'll certainly come in handy.
Maybe I can try reading in a moving vehicle next. That I could not do that has always irritated me; all that 'travelling time' reading potential.. ( i travel quite a bit, so - that's a huge chunk of time there.. ;) )
Anyhoo, in other news, our ship caught fire yesterday.
To be exact, toilet paper caught fire. Rolls and rolls of toilet paper.
It was a smoky affair, and could've been very very dangerous. We were all quarantined to a deck for almost 3 hours or so?
One of the biggest fears for ship is fire. So, it was quite a biggie.
I was cool as a cucumber the entire way.
I don't know what to feel about that.
I find my lack of fearful response sometimes disturbing.
But at the same time - I guess it also springs from the fact that I think I do not fear death.
No, not anymore.
Like, before the whole perforated appendicitis thing - I wasn't ready. Nosiree, definitely not.
Maybe then I feared it a lot more.
But thereafter I've been living everyday with the thought that it could very well be my last.
I wake up everymorning with my first thoughts being :" Good morning Lord, I'm alive! Thank you."
And everyday you have - another shot, another chance - what a gift! :)
And everyday you wake up still - it means you still have something you need to do. Your life still has some sort of purpose that needs to be unfolded. I believe that.
These days I try not to have very many things 'hanging'.
Especially not at this point of life. I mean, I don't even know what'll be when I get back home.
6 months at a time. One day at a time.
One day at a time is all it takes.
And really, if you think about it - that's all we have for sure.