Better around than under.

The vapor is such a huge iron box with a crew inside. The life of people in the box is monotonous, boring. There are no weekends, and the day runs around: four hours of watch - eight hours for rest and sleep and again four hours of watch.
Arriving at the port is a turmoil and nervousness: first unloading, then loading, bureaucracy with documents and boring communication with local agents and docks. The port landscape is usually excessively industrial and unusual. Slowly everyone begins to forget what green grass looks like.
And here we enter a small port, just two harbours, and a green-green forest around. The idea of making a shale on the shore seemed to come to everyone’s mind immediately. Already in the evening of the parish, the cocks marinous meat, and in the morning, almost the entire crew went for a picnic. Starpom, who was left on the unloading, swallowed saliva and begged him to bring him at least one piece.
The camp was broken down on a picturesque pavement overlooking the native vessel. Half an hour later, the tempting smell of shale gathered us and the Swedish police at the mangal. Local law enforcement officers told strange things: first, we are in Sweden, not in Russia, secondly, in the woods, you can't cut the socks, you can't raise the fire, you can't drink alcohol, you can't rubbish, and you can't even bring a large, sealed metal box with coals inside. And most importantly: the penalty for each offence and from each picnic participant is summed up.
The master whispered, swung a flat bottle of whiskey into his pocket and offered to move the negotiations to his cabin. The brothers did not object. Only three arrived in the captain’s cabin: the master, the sailor Shurik and the cock. (The whisker the captain hid from the police in his pocket was Shurika.) The rest were lost along the way, along with the mangal and the shaleys.
The reduction in the number of offenders did not bother the Swedes. The damaging police aunt said: “I have all the offenders counted.” The captain began to assure her that the offender was only one, and the others, so, passed by. A Swedish woman argued that one person could not eat a can of meat. Her partner, an uncle of fifty years old, bitterly breathed and silently drank dietary cola, surprised by the labels of exotic bottles from the captain’s collection.
The master told his aunt a sad story about a Russian sailor suffering for his faith:
- Understand, he was a "Orthodox Orthodontic" and from meat can only eat pork neck, which three days and three nights marinated in a special sacred vessel, and then burned on open fire under an evergreen tree - composed the captain, interfering with English, Russian and Swedish words - here "Orthodontic" and suffers, preparing meat for a month, or even two ahead.
Swedes are impressed:
Who is the Orthodontic? She asked.

Have you read Orwell’s 1984?
Well he him. I do not like these sweet tales, utopias without any plausibility. Antiquities shops work, hotels are open, Winston Smith and others unpunishedly hide where they can think without getting a pass in advance, the same Winston Smith repairs Mrs. Parsons' shell without a license, patent and IP, and breaking the social distance.

I found a wallet with a dog. It contains money, a school pass and a condom. A familiar daughter in that school to study, took the director (on the pass only name, surname and date of birth is written, it is not known which class). It turned out to be the wallet of the son of a known dog. She then told that her son was called to the council (he was 15 years old), she was called to the director and all this because of the presence of a prefix. A type of "ayayayay... what your boy thinks about instead of studying," and she told them, "I bought them for him, I don't want to become a grandmother at 37."

My colleague, his name is Oleg, baptized his son, and called his long-time friend. This friend was not from childhood, but who has gone through a lot with him, respect him as a brother.



And here, they all go to the appointed time of baptism to the church, and Oleg suddenly asks:



Renate, do you have a cross with you?

The Cross?? to

You are baptized, right?? to

What do you mean by “Baptist”? I am a Muslim.



Oleg is a very easy to communicate person, and is easy to relate to life. But dispersed or lighthearted I would never call him. At the time, he was the director of IT of a large Moscow company. In addition to life-loving and relaxedness, he always struck with a surprising speed of thinking and rare vision.



By the way, it was his fourth of the boys born with a one-and-a-half-two-year interval. The procedure was completed and there could be no mistake.



And she wasn’t.



Everything is understandable. The most important thing is that a man is good.



Nothing has changed.

I’m 32 years old and only now have I finally realized that I can’t distinguish between colors. There were no problems in school and universe, there were sometimes laughs when I spoke black instead of blue, and instead of yellow - green, but everything was perceived as a joke, as if I was confusing words or humorous. I served in the army, I have a driver's license, I have been driving for 12 years, I have been working for seven years in a company closely related to various groundings, enamels and lacks. Sometimes I called the color wrong, but I didn’t take it seriously.



Today I wanted to buy a box of candy in the store, and I had such a dialogue (I - I, Seller - P)



I - Please give that green box of candy (I point to the hand)

P is actually yellow.

I: Okay, let her go.

Q: Are you a weak-looking person?

I: No, you have never complained.

Q: You said the box is green, but it is yellow.

I: - I just talked, the head of others is stuck

You all have the heads of others, you can’t think about yourself.

(I rushed, and could only push out): - Payment by card

He gets another box from under the shelf and asks, what color?

I: The Black

P is blue. The operation is dangerous, but you can buy special glasses

I: Okay thank you

Q: I’ve been an oculist for 14 years, so don’t look at me that way.

I: thank you



When I got home, I thought and sat in the car for 15 minutes. The man worked as an ophthalmologist, and now he sells candy, it is quite possible that it is... While he was sitting in the car, watching videos on YouTube about how Daltonists first see the world in colours, it is impressive. I even found out where to order glasses, but the prices bite.



The fact is that I confuse only blue-blue-black and green-yellow-orange. At the same time, I have no difficulties in everyday life, I work mostly with documents, and in life it is very rare for me to be asked about flowers, except that my wife with curtains gets. I’m really upset that I don’t see something, but I’ve long been trapped in distinguishing colors by appearance, by how they shine in the sun or are in the shadow, I don’t know how to explain it, probably it’s intuition.



Maybe there are people with similar problems? Have you reconciled? Maybe I bought glasses? Did the operation help you? Please leave it in the comments.



All good vision, rest from the monitor for at least five minutes.