A Day in the Life
(ten things you do every day; just prompts)
(one) There is a small bed in the back (aft!) of her shuttle, and even though Jenny doesn't always feel tired, she knows it's best to get at least six hours of rest a night and allow her brain to reset itself with some REM sleep. When she wakes up, the first thing she does is remake the bed, folding the sheets into crisp and satisfying lines, edges, and corners, and making sure the pillow rests exactly in the center. She stares at it, lining things up in her mind, until she's absolutely certain everything's even.
(two) Jenny smiles at herself in the mirror. It's a wide smile for such a small mirror, but she likes knowing that nothing's changed since she smiled at herself in the mirror last night. Then she brushes her teeth, because oral hygiene is very important.
(three) She wishes her computer a good morning (the computer never answers) and consults her star charts. She's been marking off the systems she's been to, color coded based on how much she'd like to return to a particular planet, if she's headed that way. Every once in awhile there's a little "R" on the chart. Those are the places where she's had tea, and lately she's starting to notice some sort of pattern to them.
(four) There's a complicated mathematical formula that she's developed to help her select the next place she'll visit. She listens to the short band radio and counts the number of references to some sort of war, fighting, or aggressive spectator sport. Then she checks her fuel gauge, her food rations, and the amount of time since she's purchased new socks. After plugging those numbers into her formula, she grins, closes her eyes, and drops her finger totally randomly onto the chart. Then she goes to the planet in between her random choice and her mathematical one.
(five) Jenny always eats three meals a day, at least, and sometimes more. One directly after she's chosen a new planet, one at the midday, if she happens to not be busy (more often than not she's busy, and eats at her next available free moment) and one just past what would be sundown on Messaline. She's found that her metabolism also requires several small, high carbohydrate snacks a day, and wonders if it's all the energy that it takes to pump two hearts. She adds it to the daily-updated lists of things she'll ask her dad the next time she sees him.
(six) She also always changes her socks, because clean, dry socks are the most important weapon in a soldier's arsenal. Jenny, despite never hearing this from anyone firsthand, knows that this is absolutely true. So each day, after her two hundred crunches, one hundred sit ups, and fifty pull ups, she makes sure her socks are clean and dry.
(seven) Ever since her twenty-seventh day of life, Jenny spends one hour, usually after her first meal, listening to music. She finds that the old Earth music is to her liking, though that may be because (as she's since learned) it's what she heard first. Most of the fun for her, though, is listening to all the so very different kinds of music in the universe. She wonders, every day, why there doesn't seem to be any such thing as Time Lord music.
(eight) There's no desk in her small cabin, so she sits cross legged on her bed and pulls her journal out. It's a (very) old fashioned pen and paper journal, but it was a gift and she writes in it every night before she gets ready for bed. Every entry starts with "Dear Journal" and ends with "Jenny!" though she's experimented with a variety of ways to make her signature.
(nine) Jenny smiles brightly into the too-small mirror, memorizing the features of her face for tomorrow's inspection. Then she brushes her teeth, because oral hygiene is very important.
(ten) "Good night, Dad. Goodnight, Donna. Goodnight, River. Goodnight, Martha."