If I could write my wife’s journal….

(with apologies to Daniel Defoe)

Day 279.

Or is it 278?

I seem to have lost all track of time. Each day blends into the next, with hardly any distinction. Has it really been that long since I arrived on this land I’ve come to call Bay BeBump Island? Was there ever a life or day NOT spent on this island? I can’t remember, but I doubt it, even as logic assures me that there was. Bah, I can’t trust my mind any longer, anyway. This land has had a strange effect on me. I’ve tried to counteract the effects with these lovely little cookies that I’ve found, each one enigmatically marked with an “m.” Surely, it must mean “munch me.”

I didn’t fare too well during the first weeks on this island. Adequate sustenance was hard to find and harder to keep [down]. Everything edible had a horrible affect on me. However, in time, I must have since acclimated to the food and my surroundings. For awhile, all was good. In the past few weeks though something has inexplicably happened to my bedding. No matter what I try, the ground seems to follow my every move and refuses to surrender its comfort in my sleep. And I swear someone or something somehow knows where I’ll lie down because they put a stick or something that pokes me in the ribs all night long. Have I mentioned the heat? I am now fully convinced of global warming since this place sure has heated up in the past few months. I'd give anything for an arctic blast. Or raspberry chocolate ice cream.

The natives on the island, though few, at times are quite demanding. It’s hard to describe them. Mostly of a darker complexion, they’re rather short in stature. They seem to be a fierce tribe, at least one would think so from all the war party’s they have. At least, I think it’s a war party, which is the only explanation I can think of for all the screaming and wailing. But for all their “fierceness” they raid my provisions quite frequently and even have the gall to sit on me! Don’t they know what kind of stress I’m under here on this island?! They appear to have made me their chief of some sort, although apparently not the kind of chief that gets waited on hand and foot. Speaking of feet, I wonder if I can bribe one of them to rub my swollen feet.

But there is good news! I spotted a ship on the horizon this afternoon!! Just thinking about leaving this island has me ecstatic. If my calculations are correct, the ship appears to be only a day’s journey away. I’ve got to get busy! I’ve got to make my list of things to do! If only I had the energy!

Ouch, what was that?!