Command Center

Surviving Waikiki

Sol 2

It must have been close to 0200 hours when I finally dozed off, then woke up six hours later. The sun was already up.

I had work to do.

I embarked on a project vital for my survival: a Command Center, aka the Lenovo Flex 14 laptop.

I pulled an ottoman close to the couch to use as a console. An empty, upturned cardboard box set on top provided the perfect pathfinder viewing height for contact with Houston (okay, it was email, actually). From there, I could also keep up with definitive time-dependent data (i.e., Colbert's The Late Show) and Jeopardy. Multi-tasking was the word.

I designated a shelf close by as a charging station for on-orbit reading (via Kindle) and space skype (using my low-tech Lg phone, that is). Behind was Eldest Daughter's ohana family calendar for inspiration.

I tested the setup, being careful not to trip on dangling wires by exiting from the right side. Pretty ghetto, but awesome. Command Center was impressive. 

I stood back and admired my work.

Dinner was an apportioned ration of orange chicken, Beijing beef, and a small salad.

For now, I'd been well fed and ready to undertake another survival endeavor: evacuation readiness. In the event of a launch, I needed several items in my SAFER emergency jetpack.

Stowed on the orbiter night stand, I had a flashlight, matches, and phone. On a chair were shoulder and travel bags filled with important docs including passport, cash, meds, and keys. A launch and entry suit (just a jacket and running shoes, really) completed my getaway prep.

All that work was great for my morale. It gave me something to do. But after things settled down a bit, I started to  languish.

Calm down.

I got around it with a little help from Netflix. The Graduate, Good Will Hunting, and the luscious The Hundred-Foot Journey kept me entertained until after 2400 hours (calculate it - that was midnight).

On a sentimental note, the One Hand, One Heart song in Westside Story made me nostalgic.

Meh.

(To be continued)