shipwrecked

Last night some plans I had with Angie kinda fell through due to a missing copy of Love, Actually, and it was so intensely cold in my house that I couldn’t convince myself to get anything else done.  I spent a few minutes shivering at my desk, and then went into my room, shut the door, turned on the space heater, put on as many layers as possible, and got into bed.  I spent the next hour reading Blackbeard’s Cup and Stories of the Outer Banks, a book that Maddie bought for me at a grocery store the last time she went to the beach.  At first I didn’t think it was all that interesting, but the stories have gotten better as the book has progressed.  The ones I read last night were all fantastic.  Mostly they had to do with shipwrecks and pirates and the ghosts of dancing sailors.  I thought about getting out of bed but the prospect of being even colder than I already was just didn’t thrill me.  I was a ship tossing in the cold waves of two down comforters.  I turned off the light, closed my eyes, and thought about Cape Hatteras.

I had nightmares about storms at sea and splintering wood and tall, green waves.  It was excellent.  When I woke up I felt as if the night hadn’t been wasted at all.  I learned some history, dreamed some dramatic dreams, and used one of the historical nuggets I learned in conversation today at work.  Tonight I will do useless things like hanging out with my friends and going to a show.  Ah well.

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