shorts log day 6

stardate random and unknowing,

Day six of this adventure begins with a choice of uniform: white, tan, or jeans shorts. Mondays are decidedly blue, but the blue ones were tight when I bought them and now, after several washings, are impossible to get into without fasting.

I opt for breakfast and the white ones, but these are a new pair, straight from the thrift store where they were languishing with the other wayward men's clothing. Of course, these have been washed, sterilized and sanctified as clean by the ship's steward, but who knows? The memory, like body memory, still remains in them, I think.

I found myself swerving down the halls this morning, stopping at the men's room to vomit -- twice. And I keep reaching for a flask in my lap drawer that isn't there -- the lap drawer or the flask.

I think back to the thrift store -- what pile did I get these from? And then, I remember, in one of those d'oh moments that are like a kick in the head. Both heads.

I got these shorts from the alcoholic, sold-my-shorts-for-booze pile. How could I forget those stains?

shorts log day 5

Stardate meh * 3, shorts-wearing captain’s log:

Fifth day. Not adjusting to cool legs and freedom of movement well. There is no way for me to separate the work “me” from home “me” now that the clothing cues are gone.

Have started wearing uncomfortable shoes and facial studs (including tongue) to re-enforce the idea that I am at work. Much bleeding, but I am back in my comfort zone.

shorts log day 4

Stardate meh meh, shorts-wearing captain’s log:

Fourth day – temperature on the planet still high. Several dispensable non-shorts-wearing crewmen have not reported back from their sortie for lunch. They were probing for health food – illogical fools.

Communications officer remarked that augmented freedom of movement due to less leg restriction has resulted in more facile exchanges. Kept my doubts to myself on this. Communications officer dangerous when contradicted.

Science officer has always worn shorts. I told him he looks like that guy in the AC/DC video, but he didn’t get my reference. He has warned me that he will get 0% of my cultural or emotional references, and I should not get emotional about it.

Note to self: plan a shuttle mission with crew of only communications officer and science officer.

shorts log day 3

Stardate meh, shorts-wearing captain’s log:

Third day – 90 plus degrees outside. Even with the AC keeping up, still feel more mobile and cooler with bare legs. Wave of pragmatic thought imminent…wait for it…much smaller laundry loads.

Several people have tagged me in the halls. Okay, I’m it, and you better run, because this isn’t a government office. Otherwise the game would be freeze tag.

Sub-log from government office: All frozen around me. A few in analysis paralysis. Many in sloth.

shorts log day 2

Stardate 817113F, shorts-wearing captain’s log:

Second day – thrill is almost gone. Like the sugar and flavor in a piece of Fruit Stripe gum, diminishing returns has now brought me to the place where it’s just gum – just shorts – big deal.

Note: this could just be a case of the Mondays. (See Office Space).

shorts log day 1

Stardate 8171132, shorts-wearing captain’s log:

On this first day of my new uniform, I noticed that my step is much quicker. No shushing of long, heavy pant legs on the carpet.

The sense of freedom is overwhelming. I feel vaguely inspired to start up a game of tag with like shorts-wearers. I may go out for candy later – forget that stolid, healthy lunch.

Anything seems possible and fun. Even…work.