Fish Out of Water Part 2: The Panic

The Panic is an empty feeling. Days which started at 5:45 AM and ended at 6:30 PM or 8:00 PM or 2:00 AM, now start at 8:00 AM and end at 5:00PM. Those long days were never long enough. There was alway more to do. The short days are never full enough, but they are more tiring.
I think it's all the waiting. Waiting for your food to cook, waiting for a parking spot, waiting for class to start, waiting for class to end, at which point you wait in traffic, wait for more food to cook, wait for the water in the shower to get warm, wait to fall asleep.
There is no waiting in sailing.
Slowly panic starts to build up like salt deposits in all those empty spaces. Until one day your car turns toward the coast like it's driving itself - this wasn't your intention - and two hours later you pull into some lonely turnout where you sit for 15 minutes, maybe 20, and look at the sea.
That's all. You drive home. And as you drive you realize you were looking for confirmation that what you left behind was just something you like, but that's not what happened. The sea was forbidding and empty, nothing likable about it, but the longing was still there. You are a part of the sea, and you are not an amphibian.