Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources.

New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here. This story is in response to 15 Minute Ficlets' Challenge #61.

It has been one of those days where for every good thing, some little, negative thing occurs, and by the end, as I type this, my hands are shaking, and I want very much to blame it on my genes, but I know it's anger, impotent rage against the multitude of small things.

I just had to correct five words in that sentence. Today I hate even my hands.

Let me just say that I'm glad I have spoilsport protection on this journal of mine, to protect it from anyone who tries to look at it. Not that anyone has, obviously, and I know that given provocation, someone might take it as a challenge to defeat the spoilsports. But at least here I can vent without aggravating my coworkers. Still, better safe than sorry – no names of the GUILTY will be mentioned.

Dina (well, her name is acceptable) is talking quite a bit about one of her new coworkers. One of her Committee people. It's all [name] this and [name] that. [Name] says this, and I agree with him. Blah blah blah. There's some childish Earthling phrase, "If you like him so much, why don't you marry him?" It's meant as a condescension, that you're obsessing and praising the person too much. I'd say that to Dina, but I don't want to give her ideas.

If he's the clone series I suspect, it wouldn't work anyway, but I don't know for certain, so that's something I need to look into.

Aron birched at me about the temperature in the flat again. I like it cold. It's hot enough outside as it is. He can always requisition an extra blanket or something, or learn to knit. What am I supposed to do if it

Son of a BITCH! My stupid hands! Somehow I jabbed myself in the thumb with my forenail. You'd think I'd driven a needle in. It still hurts. TODAY. IS. A. TERRIBLE. DAY.

Skip said he heard that someone's going to leave our group soon, that there won't be enough work for us. So of course I intend to buckle down and work as hard as I can to ensure that Dina chooses me to stay on. I didn't even say anything about it, but Skip got all snippy and commented how I was obsessing over the boss. It couldn't possibly be related to my job, oh no. Couldn't possibly be that I want to do the best job I can and keep out of something where my hands might get injured. Stupid hands. Thumb's stopped hurting.

Oh, and they changed the menu at the commissary, and even though I know it's because of seasonal changes in what's available, it still irks me.

Going to try to walk some of this off. Hope nobody gets in my way. Wish I had a dog to kick.

~Personal journal of CRC-16 "Grif" Reproductive Researcher

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com