NaNoWriMo 2021, Day 3: 630/19,710.

Today was a rough day. Not enough sleep and too much indulgence, the day before. There’s a reason why I’m retired.


I understand that my ancestors had a leisurely approach to mental shock and potential trauma, not to mention an indulgent attitude towards letting people freak out in response. It sounds nice. Unfortunately, in the modern era we just don’t have time for luxuries like that; a pill for neutralizing the extra-strength funny brain chemicals now coursing through my vein, another pill to make me sleep like a log, and priority attention at my next psych session, and I would be ready to go. Which was just fine with me, at least after the two pills had done their magic. I had real work to do.

Everyone I saw were subdued the next day, because it’s never fun when a coworker goes space-happy, but at least Adam hadn’t killed anybody. Besides, he was now in cryosleep. That was the ultimate reassurance; not even the space-happy can bust out of that.

All of which meant I had to get back to work. I did at least take the morning kind of easy, which I thought was fair. Even if what had happened was just life on the Tomb Worlds, it was still an injury. And nobody would expect me to run a marathon after I had twisted an ankle.