Sugar Sugar

Yesterday was a strange day in the extreme, when I tested my blood sugars I had to do a second test to verify it, to say it was high would be an understatement, I think the culprit was Mr P&O's free G&Ts, which we stockpiled during the course of the event, along with copious amounts of champagne & white wine for my social secretary Janet, we had enough left over to take to dinner. This was topped off with a couple more as a night cap, hence the horrendous blood sugar results, completely self inflicted, the Wagon for me to get on again is approaching with thunderous hooves, ding, ding all aboard. In this state I have to attend a Caribbean lunch given to people who have done a certain amount of days at sea with P&O. I attend in body but not in soul, our table host is a young lady called Brooke, who is of Antipodean extraction, who introduces us to her parents, also guests on the table, the next two hours is spent in tales of families, siblings, family trips to Japan, when that topic of conversation is finished it becomes a name dropping competition, diving with Buzz Aldrin, upon meeting Princess Anne, by this time I was losing the will to live, I had spent two hours moving food about on plates , refusing wine, drinking loads of water and wanting to be somewhere else. After  the Aussie Barbie had broken up I had a quick chat with Janet and asked her to give my apologies to our dinning companions that evening for being indisposed, and retreated to my cabin to drink water, medicate and sleep it off. Glad to say everything back to normal, blood sugars under control, sea still rough, as I lookout of the window of Costa with my skinny latte, at dark inky seas and a matching sky, white horses on all the waves I spot a chink of sunlight and a rainbow, I will have to consult my Francis Chichester Almanac of seafaring folks myths and signs to unravel the meaning.