I want to run away to sea....

My life has been taken up the last few days with home renos. Worse, they're not even my home renos. Thus my absence.

While on my knees scrubbing grout with a toothbrush, my mind drifts to more pleasant endeavours: lazy days I have spent at sea, both as a passenger and crew. Days in which the only use I have for a toothbrush is brushing my teeth. No worries about blackened grout, discolored walls, faded paint or weed masses the size of New Jersey. My biggest worry is whether or not tonight's dinner menu has been posted.

No lying awake at night wondering whether the painting will be done on time, whether I can still purchase parts for a 10-year-old dishwasher or whether my husband and I will still be on speaking terms by the time we're finished. I am a terrible sleeper at the best of times at home, but give me an aft cabin and the particular movement of the ship back there, even in the roughest seas, always rocks me to sleep.

I needn't worry about unmade beds, piling mountains of laundry or menacing dustballs. No need to alarm myself with the fact the pizza delivery boy and I are now on a first-name basis. I am at sea, relaxed in my balcony chair, feet up, drink and unread book by my side, staring lazily out to sea. Not a concern in the world, the stresses of every day life slipping away like the ship's wake.

I want to run away to sea, but unfortunately I have some grout to attend to first.