January 13, 2012
Thirteenth entry. January ... something. Ship now upside down. Still sliding around, I guess, I don't feel no slide, and ain't in days, but that don't mean we ain't slidin'. So the upshot is that there's nothing to sit on except the ceiling, where the only thing stickin' up is that one-inch bolt, and so that's what we've taken to calling the dining room table. We don't eat off it, of course. We just call it that. Also, all the slop from what was belowdecks has runnelled "up" the hatch to join us on the ceiling. You just gotta laugh.