Okay, so now, thanks to the severe discomfort exhibited by my aching fingers, I know I’m not double-jointed. Wearing this flimsy hospital gown makes me feel almost naked. I shouldn’t be here; I should be working.
All this because of a recent event on a planet found to have segregated nitrogen-rich regions. One region found to be richer than others had caused some dizziness that resulted in severe impact with my fingers and a rather large rock. That gel Janet gave me for my fingers wasn’t working. I applied so much of it yesterday that she accused me of being a gel-addict. Funny! My hand was so discolored with broken blood vessels and malformed bruises, it looked like I had the plague and it still itched. But when she insisted I use a different gel that smelled of MANGO, the infirmary nearly became a battlefield. I tried to keep my voice down as did she, and the hushed dialogue must have looked curious, like lovers in a quarrel. Did I just think that? Oh god, the gossip, the scandal! But, as usual, in the end she won.
If Jack says I smell like a mango, he’ll be wearing this stuff!