Today I had slight anxiety attack.
It wasn’t because we were on a plastic boat, being tossed around like a speck on a vast ocean, a thousand miles from the nearest land.
It wasn’t the realisation that there are potential fronts bringing possible squalls or storms.
It wasn’t the knowledge that the continuous pounding of the waves and shaking of the boat could cause serious wear and tear.
What’s really really really getting to me is the growing pile of dirty washing. Steve doesn’t want me to use the washing machine because the movement of the boat could damage the drum during the spin cycle. And I’m sure he’s right but I do have a limited tolerance to smelly washing. Its hard having a much needed and loved appliance and not being able to use it.
You may say ‘What about hand washing’
Well, I have no tubs or large bowls and our small sinks can only fit two or three small items to hand wash. And try filling a sink with soapy water on a swaying, rocking boat. There’s a lot of large items to wash too. The sheet that Steve was on when a wet fish landed on him. Our used damp stinky towels, numerous sweaty T shirts, countless underwear. I am getting pretty desperate and obsessive. Steve may not mind wearing his undies for a couple of days but it doesn’t sit well with me. I like my clean knickers.
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