Good mor-- well, it's a morning...
::is going through the motions this AM, head still thick from effects of too much bourbon, too much unwanted information, and too much juvenile shit to sort through from his crew::
::didn't sleep well, what little actually got... fucking bad dreams, waking up from them with a sense of dread... one of those moments in time that falls between painful sleep and painful consciousness... one of those moments one just doesn't want to face::
::sat in silence for almost a half hour in the dark before heard twins stir... was grateful for the distraction from thoughts::
::kids almost dressed, spending last five minutes changing Charlotte's shirt five times... is amazed she even has that many different colored shirts... now to find the ribbon she wants to wear... or not wear... or that hair clicky thing that hold back her fast-growing darkening locks...::
::fast growing... watches her work the puzzle that appeared in her stocking at Christmas... glances at Henry as he makes motor noises, again... didn't know 'horseys' were automated, but in Henry's world... since he's never really seen one...::
::knows should figure out more formal schooling for them soon... 'soon' being a relative term with their growth rate... more like next week or two...::
::looks around floor for Henry's shoes, finding one deep under the desk... next to balled-up paper shit... didn't go back to writing Mal::
::picks up crumpled ball, picking at the edges... throws into wastecan, reminding self to redouble efforts tonight, give him more in-depth report on kids... doesn't think has the mental strength to talk about anything else...::
Dear Mal, yesterday I missed you like hell, found out my father had a lover who is also my boss, threw half of the crew in the brig and am about to space the other half... and oh, by the way, Happy Conception Day.
...
...
::feels like needs another drink already::
::sighs, not going there again::
Henry... Charlotte... five minutes and we're out of here. Phlox is waiting.
::didn't sleep well, what little actually got... fucking bad dreams, waking up from them with a sense of dread... one of those moments in time that falls between painful sleep and painful consciousness... one of those moments one just doesn't want to face::
::sat in silence for almost a half hour in the dark before heard twins stir... was grateful for the distraction from thoughts::
::kids almost dressed, spending last five minutes changing Charlotte's shirt five times... is amazed she even has that many different colored shirts... now to find the ribbon she wants to wear... or not wear... or that hair clicky thing that hold back her fast-growing darkening locks...::
::fast growing... watches her work the puzzle that appeared in her stocking at Christmas... glances at Henry as he makes motor noises, again... didn't know 'horseys' were automated, but in Henry's world... since he's never really seen one...::
::knows should figure out more formal schooling for them soon... 'soon' being a relative term with their growth rate... more like next week or two...::
::looks around floor for Henry's shoes, finding one deep under the desk... next to balled-up paper shit... didn't go back to writing Mal::
::picks up crumpled ball, picking at the edges... throws into wastecan, reminding self to redouble efforts tonight, give him more in-depth report on kids... doesn't think has the mental strength to talk about anything else...::
Dear Mal, yesterday I missed you like hell, found out my father had a lover who is also my boss, threw half of the crew in the brig and am about to space the other half... and oh, by the way, Happy Conception Day.
...
...
::feels like needs another drink already::
::sighs, not going there again::
Henry... Charlotte... five minutes and we're out of here. Phlox is waiting.