Once upon a time, my friend, K and I decided to go Parasailing.
Before we could parasail, we had to ride a boat, far out into the sea.
Boats and I don't get along very well. I get nauseous, and very, VERY sea sick.
But I kept going. Took a deep breath and smiled through the pain.
Pretty soon, it was time to fly! I was still smiling but I was dying inside.
At this point, I wanted to jump in the water and swim back to the shore. But it was too late. We were airborne and won't go back down for another 15 minutes.
It took all of my willpower not to throw up on myself up there. But I really, REALLY wanted to.
You cannot imagine the relief that I felt, when we were pulled back down.
It felt like Christmas morning.
I ran to the edge of the boat and positioned myself to hurl.
But it didn't come. So instead I just sat still. The boat was still moving. My stomach was in knots.
It was the worst I've ever felt.
10 minutes later when we got back to the wooden plank where the boats parked, I fell flat on my stomach and threw up. I had a heavy breakfast.
Just as soon as my 'breakfast' hit the water, I noticed a school of fish swimming up to receive it.
And they looked really happy indeed.
The end.
