Terrence, Puncher of Flounders

My travels have been exhausting again, a little. I got back home from Texas very late on Thursday, and by Friday evening I was in Philadelphia, at Jeff and Marcy's place.

Jeff and I boarded a fishing boat at 7 o'clock Saturday morning, and headed into the strip of Atlantic Ocean that makes up New Jersey's edge.

The boat had thirty-five people on it, and most of them were psyched about fishing. I was more interested in just being in a boat on the open sea.

It was fun at first, because the boat would pitch up very high waves and smack down onto the surface again, and rough wake would smash against the hull, and volumes of water would splash onto us, and some of us got more wet than others, but it was a lot like an amusement park ride.

But then they found a good spot for fishing, and the engines shut off, and the boat stopped and the fishermans dropped their lines in the water. And the boat rocked and undulated and undulated and undulated and undulated and undulated.

I got maddeningly sick, and eventually threw up my digestive contents into the heaving Atlantic. It was just a bunch of bile and what was left of my two cups of coffee, though. I think I managed to absorb the caffeine before the ocean took it all back.

I used to think I had a very strong stomach.

Alas, my physiology seems to have nosedived over the last ten years, since my invincible teenage years. Everything makes me sick, it seems like. Whether it's movie theatres or oxygen-depravating crowds or the stench of bait and the UNDULATING ocean, I will get sick.

If I find out that roller coasters make me sick nowadays, I will throw up my hands and trade in my anatomy for a new one.

I REFUSE TO BE FRAIL!

Maybe I should take a whole lot of vitamins on a consistent basis. Or maybe I should have a healthy diet. Maybe if I take better care of my physiology, my physiology will take better care of me. Less caffeine would help a lot too, I think.

Also, while on the fishing trip, one of the guys caught a flounder (a big flounder) and after they managed to get it off of the hook, they dropped it and it flopped violently towards me, and then I think I jumped back and shrieked.

It was not my proudest moment.

Terrence was the boat's second mate, and he came to my rescue, though. Terrence held the flounder down and then punched it very very hard in the head, and the flounder stopped floundering. I guess it was the most humane doom he could deliver. Terrence must have punched seventeen flounders on Saturday. I guess that I wouldn't be too surprised if the entire flounder population of the world got together and ganged up on Terrence someday, and punched him until his ribs were broken. He has certainly not made any friends amongst the Paralichthys Dentatus.

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But this week I am the office boss. Because there is no one else around. I will field the telephone calls and sign for the FedEx packages. I will try to not abuse my new power and authority.

Besides that, I just don't know.