April 25, 2194 - 2300h ... Today is my 25th and, perhaps, last birthday. Twenty-five on the 25th. It is also, coincidentally, my 25th hour being stuck out here -- about a million kilometers from ... everywhere. One thing I know for sure: a 24-hour MUstick is clearly lacking about an hour of music.
I also stink. Lots. (What IS that?)
Normally, a situation like this wouldn't make me nervous, but this particular long-haul gig has me out in the tail-end of Cygnus-Norma ... about as far into the outer stretches of the galaxy as you can go without falling--forever--into the tar of intergalactic space. Fun! Really!
Okay, totally not fun. Really.
Once the music ran out I started getting lonely, like immediately. There's no way to call a pal or your girlfriend or your mommy in the outer arms. Only the fringe elements of civilization (good or bad) have dared these depths of space, and they tend to do things on the conservative side. So, if you want to maintain a link to other humans, you best stick to the roads most traveled.
Not me. I'm all about shortcuts. Point A, Point B, straight line, go.
Problem is, out here the space between Point A and Point B is ... space. Google hasn't done a whole lot of mapping of the empty bits, so ... well, out here it's easy to make a wrong turn at the corner of Null & Void.
I gotta crap.
