Ferry Angst

I was going to title this post Ferry Rage, as a play on road rage, but that's too strong. Rage is not what I'm feeling, it's more angst-like. Annoyance rather than anger. I recognized that things had crossed the line into this state of angst when I caught myself last weekend having a rather cold-hearted response to a fellow passenger.who may have been dead. 

 Here's what happened. 

The ferry was pulling into the dock and I noticed a man sleeping in his car, but he looked more dead than asleep. My first thought was instant and clear. The thought was: OK, well if he is dead, he's parked in a different lane than me and I should be able to disembark without delay. 

He wasn't dead. He was sleeping, but that's not the point. The point is, in my head at least, I put my getting off the ferry in a timely fashion over that person's well being. Last week I'm against gnomes and this week it's dead ferry passengers. What gives Liz? 

Island-itis? High priced ferry fatigue?  A dismal and jaded approach to life? I don't know, but whatever it is leans more to the dark than the light. Also, Sleeping Guy's lane drove off the ferry first so that was annoying, but I breathed through it. Clearly I need to get off the island more often.