Houston, We Have
A Problem
by Christopher
Silva
Racing through
space at over fourteen thousand miles per hour is
amazing to say the least. Orbiting the Earth is
like being at the best concert ever. A magic
show that never stops. I can spend hours pasted to
this portal, just awed by its majesty.
Space flight
is an incredible experience. No matter how
wonderful, it just isn't for everyone. And I'm
starting to worry. I am beginning to believe
that space flight just isn't for me. I know.
It's a bit late! That's what Houston said
anyway.
One of my main
issues here- is mess. The space station is messy.
Poor or no stowage, just horrible!
I started this
journey three years ago and stuck with it to the
end. Through all the training hours, weeks and
months of grueling tests. Mentally and physically
dissected and analyzed. Well, they missed
something, because I am tired of it now and ready
to leave.
Houston is
very worried about this, and they should be. This
stinks! I mean that literally. Have you
ever been with other humans in a tin can for
two or three months, even a year? And this
without proper bathing facilities? So
between the mess and the stench, I'm ready to go
home. I tried, really I did. I took a
pragmatic approach to resolve these issues.
I started by
adding agenda items to our morning team meetings.
During these meetings I informed the team
that we needed to tidy up. We needed to
think about how to better store things, that we
could re-decorate this station. I discussed color
coordination. I even designed a whole
new approach to hygiene. I sent a special order
with our last request to Houston for new station
attire and color coordinated sleeping gear.
The answer: "No time, scientific testing takes
priority." Don't they get it?
So, it's time
to go. Not sure and don't care what the costs are.
They need to get a shuttle up here and take
me home. I can't bear another day in this
dirty little station.
So I sit,
pasted to the portal, waiting. Watching the show.
I just don't understand. It's their rule. It's
all their fault. They came up with the idea.
Don't ask don't
tell.
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