Captain’s Log, USS Coronavirus: Day 8


Well, the worst happened. Mutiny. I write this now as a prisoner from my own ship. This is first day of my captivity.

My captors, AKA my former crew members, have taken me hostage. While the weekend showed promise of bonding and becoming a tight knit unit, today things all fell apart.

Even though my Shore Leave was canceled this weekend, I made the best of things. We played games and we hiked together–exploring new terrain.

Looking back, I suppose there were signs of unrest among my crew. For one, none of them can handle losing — even to their captain in a friendly game of shuffle board. So what started as friendly competition quickly turned into unrest. This is the first time I met sailors with such little aptitude for sportsmanship.

And then there was the hike. Or, more aptly named, “The Trail of Tears’. Good heavens, they have their sea legs but lack any capabilities for land travel. They acted as if I was torturing them on this expedition! And it was supposed to be RECREATIONAL!

Last night, everyone retired to their quarters in peace. Or so I thought. Little did I know they were plotting their coup.

It all started this morning, at zero dark thirty. The tiniest crew member woke screaming in the middle of the night — a bad omen. The First Mate and I argued over who would assist her and being the better person and leader that I am, I went to her side. Just a night terror– for Pete’s sake! What is this, a slumber party? Once things settled, we all went back to sleep. Then, the light of morning came and with it, my doom.

The mess hall was quiet for breakfast. Too quiet. They snuck up on me, poured their rations all over me and took control of the Bridge. The First Mate and I were no match for them. And for the next few hours they tortured us with terrible music and endless questions. I’d like to say we bore it well but alas, I cannot lie.

So, I write this from my quarters: a captain defeated. As we speak, they are charting a course for a new voyage. Where we will go, I do not know. I only know I am at their mercy.

Tomorrow is a new day. But I fear it.

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Allison’s mission in life is to notice the extraordinary in the ordinary. Her commitment to see beyond what’s in front of her was fostered by her degree in Philosophy and Theology from Boston College. Allison’s a book nerd and credits her parents and inspiring English teachers for her love of reading and writing. She went on to earn her Master in Pastoral Ministry from Boston College and then taught high school for several years, both in New England and San Francisco. After moving from San Francisco to Boston with her engineer husband, she began teaching yoga and working as a social media marketing consultant. Now a Portsmouth resident, she spends most of her days with her three daughters (she does not have enough arms) and does her best to find the bliss amidst the endless snacking, dance parties and tiaras. With all the beautiful chaos in her life, she’s grateful to have her partner-in-crime (husband Charlie) and fellow movie quote enthusiast alongside her. Her passion for writing first drew her to Seacoast Moms as a contributing writer, and her desire to connect moms of the Seacoast with businesses who serve and interest them led her to become SM’s owner. Being able to write about the ordinary grace present in motherhood, while interacting with incredible Seacoast business owners is a dream come true.