Sandy Supposes....

Where Do I Sign Up?

PROMPT: War Chest Wednesday! Would you rather be a sailor, or a shipbuilder?

          Good question... and, you mean I have a choice? These are two careers that I've never before considered. Do I possess skills and an aptitude for either?

         Well, for years now I have maintained a home. I have learned to wield a mop, so I suppose that particular prowess translates directly to the swabbing of a ship's deck. For all family forays, I've been the chief packer and planner, so I know a thing or two about battening down the hatches. I have navigated roadways via maps, street signs, and poorly plotted directions, so I am able to make my way from one port to another. I have weathered mutinies, squabbles, and the temper tantrums of children, so the dissent of a crew would just roll off my shoulders. Intense training has honed my survival instincts. My hearing is finely-tuned. I have eyes in the back of my head. I sense and foresee everything. Nothing dares to happen without my consent, so I would bring discipline to a ship. This ship would be kept in an immaculate condition, ship-shape. A tidy ship is a happy ship.

          Yes, I would like to be a sailor. Travel and adventure appeal to me. There's something so bracing about accepting a new project. If the voyage guarantees to be kid-free, I'll sign on as a sailor. It's not quite the leisurely cruise I always envisioned, but I will experience fresh air, and a new freedom. Wait, will there be a salary, too?

         Um, nah, I cannot see myself as a shipbuilder. Tools and I do not see eye to eye. We do not have a rapport necessary to achieve success. They are so awkward and contrary. They are heavy and bulky. I struggle to wield them, and they resist my efforts to control them. They recognize and belittle my lack of coordination. Tools make me feel inferior. Alas, the only thing I could build is a reputation for personal injuries.

         Ah, I can smell the sharp tang of the salt air, and feel the brisk breeze blowing through my hair... The slapping waves and gentle bobbing of the ship will lull me to the first restful slumber I've had in decades... An audience of squawking sea gulls may serenade me... I could burst into spontaneous song... "Rolling over the billows, rolling over the sea, rolling over the billows in the deep blue sea"...