I wish I had an eyepatch...

...because I lost a screw on my glasses. Which wouldn't be such a problem, if I didn't also have some kind of weirdness from my contacts. I can wear one of them without issue, but the other's just not having it today. And I've a four-hour watch this afternoon. So, it'd be cool if I could wear an eyepatch, and yell "Yarrrr!" at any of the women who want to go up to the male deck.

Hey, it'd be fun to yell "Yarrr!" at the males, too.

It's common knowledge that I don't exactly act my age. I don't even look my age, apparently. I don't know exactly what I do act like, but 23 ain't it. Actually, this has been the case with most of the previous years - I'd only feel that particular age for a few months, and then it would be off and wandering again. I seemed to spend a lot of time at 19 while I was 22. Now, I'm off and wandering in the other direction - my subconscious is pretty well-convinced that I'm 26, and is kind of thinking about making a frightening break for 33 when my back is turned. All of this leads to conversations like this one:
Me: "So, yeah, but you don't really have to worry about it yet."
Friend: "Yeah, but it just seems like everyone else is already."
Me: "Psh, I'm not."
Friend: "Yeah, but you're younger than me."
Me: "Not really. How old are you?"
Friend: "28."
Me: "Huh. Did not know that. Well, that's not that big a difference."
Friend: "Broph, you're 23."
Me: "I AM?!?"

Today's an easy day. Your first couple of times having a duty day on a weekend, you're kind of annoyed about it, because that's your free time. Now, I have a dozen things to do, but, oh darn, I can't do any of them, because I can't leave the ship, which means I get to finally take care of the four or six things that I've been putting off in favor of the other harebrained runarounds. Like sleeping. Zzzzzz.

Mills used to claim that I was a stoner because of some of the things that I say either late at night or first thing in the morning (if we aren't rushing around trying to be somewhere in the morning - 5 days out of 6 right there). Today, I voiced the opinion (into my pillow) that June needed to be twice as long, because it's such a nice time of year, but it makes everyone so sleepy, so we should all sleep through the first June and then enjoy the second one.

Today, our assistant section leader decided to make pancakes for the entire duty section. Pretty easy feed - duty section's the only people who'll be wearing digis on a day off. Pretty easy idea, too - she got a griddle, couple boxes of pancake mix, some syrup, somebody had butter, and ALL of us have some kind of dishes (I'm prone to storage containers that double as cereal bowls, and an inexplicable number of cups.)

It's against regulations to be in your rack in uniform. But, with the exception of yours truly having a watch at noon, the three of us* have nothing specific to do until the next muster, so this seems like excellent napping time. However, a call can go out at any moment for our duty section to come deal with a flood in the ladderwell, a fire in the lounge, groundhog in the laundry room, you name it. So, we have to stay in uniform. So, we can't be in our racks. So, to a one, we all neatly unlace our boots, sling our blouses over the back of a chair, and nap on the floor. Call goes out, we're on our feet, slinging the blouse back on, grabbing a cover and flying out the door - but for now, carpet-slumber times three. Nice.

Thanks to a cell phone and the school closing so that I can't get in extra study time, I've had the chance to catch up with a lot of my girlfriends, both military and civilian, this week. There's been a fascinating pattern in the relationships over the last few days - all of the boyfriends have done something remarkably (in some cases, Darwinally) stupid, and all of the husbands have done something really stellar for their wives. Another bit of late-night randomness was the brain's response to the entire species before I fell asleep: "Way to go, guys!! Fail."

*It's a little unusual, in our barracks, to have all three roommates of any room be in the same duty section. Usually, we're a little more spaced, so that we can get some breathing-time away from each other. To add to the confusion, all three of us have the same coloring and roughly the same build (traits I share with a friend down the hall, whose name is a homonym for one of the roomies). AND, the three of us are all within three weeks of each other in Apprentice Technical Training. The rest of the ship is very confused.