SeptimusFry
N/A
(Never posted a recommendation b4, but just had to) Surely, everyone in this place has been in pretty much this situation? This book is made for those who sail, it just rollocks along.
Every night when I went to my cosy cabin, I would stand for a moment, breathing stertorously, sizing up the situation, planning, in the freezing cold, the best campaign for undressing and getting into bed. Sit here to get off the shoes. Put the shoes over here. Get up. Loosen trousers. Take off clothing carefully, watching out for knuckles on the ceiling and the portholes. Sit. Take shoes from under arse where I have sat on them. Lean back and roll upwards with the legs in the air. Pull down trousers. Sit up. Bang head. Fold trousers. Rearrange sleeping bag so that the zip won't work its way underneath me in the middle of the night and the useless hood attachment won't smother me at three in the morning. Crawl forward on top of the sleeping bag. Turn over. Lie flat out. Raise legs and pull slithery freezing cold sleeping bag over nether limbs. Shiver with disgust. Realize I have left the light on by the door of the cabin. Crawl forward, trying to stay in the sleeping bag, like articulated blue caterpiller. Reach to switch out the light. Crawl back up the bunk, cursing quietly. Find out that I am lying on zip. Get smothered at three in the morning.
Every night when I went to my cosy cabin, I would stand for a moment, breathing stertorously, sizing up the situation, planning, in the freezing cold, the best campaign for undressing and getting into bed. Sit here to get off the shoes. Put the shoes over here. Get up. Loosen trousers. Take off clothing carefully, watching out for knuckles on the ceiling and the portholes. Sit. Take shoes from under arse where I have sat on them. Lean back and roll upwards with the legs in the air. Pull down trousers. Sit up. Bang head. Fold trousers. Rearrange sleeping bag so that the zip won't work its way underneath me in the middle of the night and the useless hood attachment won't smother me at three in the morning. Crawl forward on top of the sleeping bag. Turn over. Lie flat out. Raise legs and pull slithery freezing cold sleeping bag over nether limbs. Shiver with disgust. Realize I have left the light on by the door of the cabin. Crawl forward, trying to stay in the sleeping bag, like articulated blue caterpiller. Reach to switch out the light. Crawl back up the bunk, cursing quietly. Find out that I am lying on zip. Get smothered at three in the morning.
