Three weeks. That was the expectation. 3 weeks. 

My whole life, my biggest pet peeve has been people’s extraordinary tendency to underestimate time. Who or what are you benefitting? What’s the fucking point. Why do you say 20 minutes when every one knows it will take an hour?

Because if someone had told me 40 days, I’d have mentally prepared for that. But they said 3 weeks. I guess some part of me knew that was ideal, for sure. But now. 21 days. And I think I have maybe 3 days left in me before i lose my mind in this oceanic prison. The emails via ham radio have helped a little, but not as much as I thought or would have liked. I’m not going to write them anymore.

We won’t get there for another week. Or maybe even ten days. It’s like I can’t breathe.