A message in a Lunenburg coffee shop.
Lunenburg felt both familiar and foreign. As we departed, the fog rolled in, encompassing us on every side, and the city disappeared. Having sailed to and from it in fog, I had the strange sensation that perhaps we had never been there at all.
Our ship, the microprocessor
I was late with breakfast because it wasn't posted. Captain Dashing, whom I've now nicknamed The TSA, gave a speech about communication using a computer as a metaphor for a ship. There's been a common thread to the speeches all our captains have given when something has gone wrong. They use metaphors, and they point to some situation without naming the individuals involved, using passive verbs. One time, I kept thinking: is she talking about me? Is this something I'm doing? If it is, why doesn't she just tell me? Or is she talking about something else?
I can't recall...
I made ravioli from a package, and warmed up yesterday's pizza.
Brisket, braised leeks, mashed potatoes and fried eggplant (because Rigby thought it was going bad - he smelled something funky in the bilge).
Brownies from a box