This morning I departed from my mainland home, to embark on the long journey to my island home. The terminal was fairly empty, as it usually is when I make a reservation in anticipation of it being busy. I went in to get coffee, and all the dudes behind the empty food counters looked aggressively bored. Each stared at me in a lazily challenging fashion as I passed - You want to give me something to do? Well, do ya? The Rocky Mountain Chocolate guy shoved a tray of fudge in my face - SAMPLE, MISS?!? I declined because he was somewhat terrifying, plus it was a bit early in the day for fudge. (Nevermind the fact that I sometimes have cake for breakfast.)
After coffee was acquired, I hurried back to my car, lest the ferry depart thirty minutes early and without me. Then, as I drove up the ramp, I worried I was accidentally going to Victoria; then, as the sun blinded me, I worried I would accidentally drive into the ocean instead of onto the boat. Now I am sitting in a row by myself, with the exact location of my car written on my hand, and the captain just assured us all that we are indeed traveling towards Nanaimo. I can't worry about anything else for approximately two hours, so I think I will read my book.
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