Lest I remember my success and forget my frustrations

The last time I went sailing ended with tears.

We'd meant to go the day before, but a late bus threw off the rhythm of the day and we opted for lazy reading instead. But the morning was beautiful, so we skipped church and headed to the water.

I'd never rigged the boat without my usual partner before. It was so much slower without her splitting the tasks. But I'm not at the point of being able to tell others what to do. So with List Guy stood around feeling useless I pulled sheets, threaded sails, and tied knots.

We finally got out to the water. Hoorah. But getting into the boat with someone who doesn't know how to do things, also, harder. We were deep enough that I had trouble jumping in. He couldn't steer the boat in the meantime and it kept moving.

I finally got in. And we got stuck in the sandbar.

I got rescued by the staff. At least it was my favorite guy there. Embarrassed I followed his directions to start again.

And again, I couldn't get into the boat.

If we had the time, I would have worked it out. But I knew it would still be slow going when I got in. And there was an afternoon bus to get the Guy to. Bags to pick up on the way. Preferably eating some lunch too.

So I called it. Tears of giving up when I knew I could get it, should have done it already. Disappointment in myself. Still embarrassed by my mistakes. And maybe, still a bit sleep-funked from two nights before.

We went back to shore. Derigged the boat. He's promised it won't be our last time. The club near him is cheaper. He has friends who are members. We'll see.