The Hand We Are Dealt

Posted on 28 Sep 2014 @ 6:28am by Petty Officer 3rd Class Melinda Clare

310 words; about a 2 minute read

"Computer begin personal log...

These Tribbles, these darn, blasted, fuzzy little... I could scream!"

Screams!

"Oh my, that felt fabulous. It's so odd how people will say that they could just scream and never do. I said it and did it and it felt great. I bet people would feel a whole hell of a lot better if they followed through with it. Anywho, I think I am just tired, exhausted really. I have been trying so hard to help out where I can, but these double shifts are killing me. Okay, they aren't exactly double shifts, but it's still pretty dang close. But, with Galileo at orange alert, every person is needed to help maintain what little energy we have left.

I consider myself an easygoing person, fun-loving, happy-go-lucky kind of gal and even I am at my end with all this. It seriously is cutting into my social life, heck it's cutting into my sonic shower time and it's definitely in the way of a good meal and a good cosmo. I am tired of trying to keep my uniform clean of Tribble fur. I just want it to be over.

I know, I know log, it will end somehow, someway. I guess I am just being impatient in all of this. I suppose what bothers me just as much is that this took us all by surprise like that shouldn't happen to a trained, well-oiled machine such as this crew. Something happened, something slipped through the cracks but we can only deal with what we are dealt.

On a lighter note, the next shoreleave I am going to surprise my parents. I miss them terribly; hell I miss Brooklyn and New York City terribly. It will be nice to go home.

Well log, that's a wrap from yours truly.

Computer end personal log."

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