Good morning all. Overnight the temps dropped dramatically and I woke up stuffed up because of it. I love when my body protests seasonal change. But a kleenex clear out and an advil cold and sinus took care of the issue. And there is the added bonus that I think this might have actually been the killing stroke for the local ragweed population. At least for the season. As that has been the reason I’ve been so tight with Advil the past few weeks, I’m okay with a little weather change congestion. At least my eyes are no longer puffy and itchy. which is i’m sure more than you really wanted to know, but non-the-less it is time to turn the no longer itchy eyes to the morning prompt. Timer ready? Good I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.
Wednesday, October 14th: By the time their letters reached their destination, the information was outdated.
By the time their letters reached the destination, the information was outdated. It was a frustrating experience. The letters conveyed a direct account of events and contained lists of desperately needed supplies. By the time the letters were read by those in a position to order those supplies sent, they generally made due with some sort of substitute and had some other pressing need that wasn’t met. Used to the near instant communication afforded by cell phones and e-mail it was taking some adaptation. As a consequence Dave started prioritizing upcoming necessities they had not yet run out of. He estimated the amount of time they needed to convey the information and for the information to be processed. Then he rummaged through their supplies counting every item from medical necessities to the olives his commander put in his martini every night when the day’s work was done. He had only one olive and only one drink per night but they added up, so Dave counted the olives. His math stretched through every element needed to keep the place running because at the moment every item needed to be ordered. To his dismay he rapidly became an expert in how many squares of toilet paper each man in his unit used in a single day.
It wasn’t exactly how he planned to use his education in statistics, but he had to admit, it was useful.
While occasionally local replacements could be found, there were occasional repercussions. The denizens of this world looked more or less like humans in that they were bipedal and were carbon based. Their digestive track was something else entirely. Things the locals ate were hit or miss with the men. Taste was rarely a factor as until he worked out the supply arrangements, desperation tended to augment taste buds. Some of the foods humans simply couldn’t process and some of the items humans needed weren’t ones that the locals used. While Dave could now estimate toilet paper usage, he also learned that the aliens didn’t evacuate their bowels in the same manner. If indeed they even had bowels. Excess from their digestive process was secreted through their pores. After they ate they would take a rest, digesting their meals . The liquid would form all over their bodies and evaporate into a gaseous form.
He and his men were gaining new meaning from the phrase ‘passing gas.’
After a time, Dave managed to adjust his thinking, anticipating their needs and ordering supplies before they were needed. It was a direct violation of protocol, which stated new items should only be ordered as the last of the stored items were put into rotation. It was a rule meant to prevent stockpiling. As Dave’s pre ordering was one of the few things keeping them from a completely empty larder, he felt justified in bending the protocol. He just never made a point of bringing it up to his commander.
‘Besides I don’t think protocol covered colonizing an alien planet,’ he justified.
Ten til Midnight 