I’m in my bed after two weeks of sailing around the inner islands of the Seychelles with my family. We did not get kidnapped by any pirates, although my dad and Scott definitely started looking like them towards the end there. Our house smells like home, like damp driftwood and old books, maybe even like soy sauce, although the fact that I notice it smells like anything at all seems to prove that I really have been away.
Scott’s asleep already, but I slept so much on the airplane that I’m not there yet. I tried watching T.V., but it seemed so loud and distracting, even though I’m just lying here. I guess I’ve gotten used to the sound of my own thoughts, of the ocean, of someone snoring in the other room…any other sounds seem too startling yet.
Maybe that’s dramatic.
I know I’ll probably be used to the sound of the television and highway and my buzzing computer by tomorrow at 3 p.m., but I kind of hope not.
For now, the only thing that seems comforting is to do what I have been doing while sailing with my family…at least what makes sense to do on land. This includes writing in my journal, reading a book and doing the eight minute ab workout my sisters and I did together, even though doing it alone is so much less motivating and kind of lonely.
Not knowing exactly what my whole family is doing at this very minute feels unnatural, so I text my sister emojis to demonstrate her experience of spilling scalding coffee on her hand in the airport in Dubai earlier this morning (the coffee cup, that red thing that looks like heat and the hand).
I’m looking forward to placing pieces of the trip here on this blog. I wrote in my journal some, read Tina Fey’s really hilarious book Bossy Pants and the book The Light Between Oceans that definitely had me ugly crying on the plane ride home, surfed here and there and swam most. I miss it already.