April 26, 2194 - 0900h ... Welcome to the 35th Hour of

I Wish I Was Dead

There once was a dude in a spaceship

Into the control stick did his face slip

He fell fast asleep

While the blood well did seep

And, man, did that futching hurt!!

I passed out pretty much upon completing my last log entry. I guess that's my body's way of saying, "Hey, maybe YOU like being exhausted to the point of keeping a delusional journal that nobody's ever going to read, but-" and then I was asleep.

I have a strikingly handsome inch-and-a-half long gash along the bridge of my nose, so I have to conclude that I truly did pass out and not just fall asleep.

I did manage to send out a repeat distress call, this one explaining my latest immobility issue and reiterating that I need a TOW not a MAP. Of course, that message is not likely to reach anyone for at least another 10 hours, if the timing of the response to my first call is any indicator.

Then again, for all I know I might be no more than a few hours from the nearest depot, which may just happen to employ a lazy custodian struggling with the moral dilemma of whether to render aid to a critically disabled vessel or stuff another chocolate-chip sweetball down his throat.

In the outermost reaches of the galaxy nobody asks: "How can I provide you with excellent customer service today?"

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