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Chief Medical Officer’s Personal Log, Stardate… 2267.57. I’m not sure how much of this anyone will actually care about, but I might as well take my own advice and vent my troubles to the universe. Lord knows I could use a damn therapist with all the crap this crew puts me through.
Anyway, today has been… interesting, to say the least. First off, my shift started so early I got off duty by 0920 and was back in my quarters by 0930. (Why did I ever agree to take the night shift this week?) But then the unthinkable happened.
I already said it wasn’t even 10:00 in the morning, right? A time when everyone off duty is trying to sleep, and those of us finishing up want nothing more than to get back to bed as soon as possible. Apparently the captain had other ideas.
To whoever may be listening to this, know that I’m not condemning his actions in any way - I just wanted to sleep, dammit, and his sex noises were so loud even my noise-cancelling headphones didn’t help!
Needless to say I wasn’t able to sleep so all I could do was catch up on some reading and a bit of paperwork, all the while hearing “OH YEAH, SPOCK, RIGHT THERE, UNHHH” in the background. I considered using my medical override code on the door in order to physically stop the… proceedings. Unfortunately I convinced myself against it. Next time the captain and his hobgoblin boyfriend may not be so lucky.
“Why didn’t you go to the officer’s lounge to avoid this?” I hear you ask. You know me, I don’t fraternize while I’m exhausted. All I’m asking is for a little compassion. And better insulation between the walls of our quarters. And maybe a relocation to the other side of the ship. But nooo, the senior officers all have to live close together. Whose stupid idea was that, by the way? I need to have words with them… But I digress.
At any rate, once the noise in the next room died down, I finally got some sleep. Once I fully woke up, around 1600, I figured a trip to the mess was in order. (Sidenote: I need to get the coffeemaker in my quarters fixed…)
But of course, the doors opened to yet another scene I didn’t want to see. Fortunately Uhura and Scotty weren’t doing much worse than making out across the table, but that’s not the point! The point is that I don’t want to see, or hear, my friends in compromising situations. I’d much rather not live my life without the realization that everyone I know is having more fun than I am. This goddamn five year mission is going to kill me.
And on that note, I’m ending this rant before Jim can laugh at me any more than I’m sure he already has. He always makes a point of listening to my logs… Dumb hick. McCoy out.