Despite Veneeth and Von's urgings I felt compelled to push through with my plan to return home yesterday. Not that I was doing anything urgent in Dumaguete, it just so happened that I've been away from home too long already. More's the pity because Mos Eisley night at the Hard Rock cafe was just around the corner.
Nevertheless, I think it's important to set down my roots once again. Over the past month, I've been living the vagabond life: Cebu in the first week of May, followed by Davao; Manila on the second week; Cebu again on the third week; and Manila once more on the fourth. It gets bothersome not to be able to sleep in one's own bed.
In keeping with my second-guessing nature, I'm beginning to wonder whether taking the ship home was wise. A few thousand pesos more and I'd be back in Dumaguete quicker by plane. But really, if I think about, it's just half-a-day that I would gain that way, what with the usual airport rush that eats up the morning anyway.
So far it's been quite restful. I woke up late, I had breakfast late, and I slept again. Whatever sleep I may have lost over the past month I think I've made up for. Now the inactivity is getting to me so much so that I have to pick up the Thinkpad and write again.
Ah, what a handy thing to have, this Thinkpad. I'm sitting on the forward deck of the ship, taking in the fresh air and on occasion raising my head to look at the calm sea.
And thus, I write.