What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Space, y’all.  My biggest damn fear.  Ever since I was little I enjoyed learning about space.  Planets are cool.  Stars are romantic.  Wormholes are crazy interesting.  But please don’t ever let me go there.  Seriously.  I don’t want to go deep underwater either.  Why would we voluntarily go where we cannot exist?  Seriously?!

But here I am. Floating in space.  In this metal ship, pod, station...whatever it is.  Here I am.  Like I swore I’d never be.

All because I thought I needed to face my fears.

And, yeah, I’m facing them now.  I have been for about 5 hours.  It’s gotten a little easier.  I’m not constantly feeling like I’m going to die, or pass out, or cry, or poop.  But now I hear the voices.

You know, if you stand too close to that window it could totally crack and depressurize and then you will be spaced.  Just sayin’.

God I hate it when people say, “Just sayin’.” It’s a license to be an asshole.  Don’t try to convince me otherwise because you’re just lying to yourself.

Also the only way you’re alive is this life-support system that could stop functioning at any moment because it was built by a person and is not naturally occurring.

You know you’re totally fucked right?

I do, I do.  You don’t have to keep reminding me.

What if there are zombies?

That’s quite enough of that, thank you.

So I got myself into this.  Now how am I going to get myself out?

Well shit.  Now I can’t stop sweating.

“Enable cooling.”

"COOLING ENGAGED. ENJOY YOUR COMFORTABLE NEW PERSONAL CLIMATE."

Great.  Now I’m sweaty and cold.  Sigh.

Okay, reality check.  What is actually happening?  I’m the only one left on the ship.  The others have gone on excursion.  They’re roaming around the void in an even smaller hunk of metal on a retrieval mission.  They say they will be back in, like, four hours.  Four hours.  I can do this.  I can stay calm and do my work and not implode the ship in four hours.  No sweat. 

Of course you can’t.

Shut it.

You don’t know how to operate this station.  You only know how to do what you’re here to do.  You’re going to push the wrong button and start a fiery inferno in a ship in space.  And then you’re dead.

Whatever.  I’m hungry.

Walking into the cafeteria is pretty creepy actually.  It’s all silver and sleek which is cool when you’re with a bunch of people and you’re talking and forgetting that you’re in oxygen-less space.  It’s also really clean, which makes me very happy.  But now it’s just sterile.  And empty.  And quiet. Too quiet.

This soup is actually pretty good.

Hey, I stopped sweating.  Making progress.

Now what to do...

You could just go ahead and kill yourself.  Then you wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore.

I knew this was a terrible idea.

*drip drip drip drip*

I’m thinking that coming up here to face my fears was a pretty extreme idea. Sure it broke me out of my daily routine.  I was feeling pretty pathetic and stuck in my life.  I wasn’t trying anything new, and the things that I seemed to have a good routine for started being less effective.  But blasting myself into space?  Well, maybe I needed extreme and am just regretting that decision.  But there’s no turning back now.

*drip drip drip drip drip*

“Locate source of leak.”

“LEAK IS EMINATING FROM LOCATION 30*, DISTANCE 150 FEET.”

Okay, wrench, it’s me and you and this leak.  Let’s make this happen.  Oh, you’re not big enough.  Okay, um, hmmm.  This crazy looking wrench should work.  Kick ass.  Righty tighty, lefty loosey.  No more leak.

Fuck yes.  What else have you got for me ship?  How do you like me now?

We’ll like you better bloodied and broken.

I so have to take whatever the hell this is out.  Right the fuck now.