i can't wait to get home

when and if,

we finally get back from the moon,

it all depends

on those 

heat shields, hopefully

they weren't made

in China,

i figure my legs

will be wobbly. i'll be

starving

for a steak and an ice cold

martini.

i'm tired of this

box food.

plus i've had a falling out

with some

of the crew members.

we're no longer making

eye contact, there's

a lot of tension

and pent

up resentment,

which has made the trip

almost

unbearable.

people are close talking, which

is so

annoying.

three inches from your face.

we've started to argue

about

small things, like the window

seat,

and whose turn is it

to push such and such button.

why do i have

to put

the trash and toilet debris

out the window

all the time.

why is that my job?

not to mention, there's been

a bad

smell since take off that no one

can figure out.

i lost it the other day

and told

the captain to shut up,

you're not the boss of me.

we had to

be separated by the chick

who rode along

with us.

i thought maybe, just maybe

Sydney Sweeny

would ride along

with us,

but no such luck.

my legs and arms are chaffed

from this dumb

spacesuit.

now i know why women hate

to wear pantyhose.

this whole trip reminds of the time

my dad

took us all to Florida

in the Chevy, four kids in the back

seat.

talk about deja vu.