It went a little something like this:
“Captain, we’ve had a core breach.”
“What? Scotty, explain!”
“Levels were high but all within normal limits. Engineering was working to bring them lower when BOOM we were hit. Half my team is down, there is matter and anti-matter everywhere, the place is a mess. I blame the Glutens or the Allergens, maybe the Stressors, you can’t trust any of those assh…”
“Keep me inf…”
“She can’t take much more of this, Captain! She’s gonna blow!”
“Dump the core.”
“Captain, are ye sure?”
“You heard me, dump it.”
<stunned silence> “Aye Captain.”
This dramatic Star Trek inspired re-enactment was brought to you by whatever the hell knocked me on my ass this week. It’s bad enough that I finally got over a cold in May, but I’d rather cough and snot all over the place than have an energy core dump like this again. I was the red-shirted ensign of my own life the last few days. Could have been gluten poisoning, could have been allergies run amok, could have been end-of-school-year-I’m-so-done, could have been a migraine as a friend suggested, but dang. I’m a big fan of afternoon naps, but only on the weekends or holidays or when you can luxuriate in the bliss of midday slumber. Passing out in the middle of the day because you’re non-functional from vertigo and feeling like a gutted fish is not blissful, no it is not.
Or maybe I just have teenage boys who delight in tormenting each other, cranking the bickering volume to 11, and generally raising the angst level higher than this emotionally intense mama can absorb. (Reeeeeally kinda done with the two of them and we’re not even at summer break yet.)
Or all of the above.
Regardless of what precipitated the overload and core dump this week I am exhausted and ready for some low-key time. My flute studio is on break until mid-June, school is winding down for the boys, and I plan on spending this weekend as horizontal as possible for as long as possible.
I’ll just avoid red shirts for the foreseeable future.