It’s my first day as captain of the ship USS Coronavirus. The ship consists of myself, my first mate, three unruly crew members, and a cat.
We only have 247 roles of toilet paper left.
The crew on this ship is small, but mighty. The smallest one of them seems to be the most respected. Constantly yelling and ordering the others around. I must admit, I’m intimidated. While I’m the captain, I won’t get anywhere unless I win her over. I will spend some time formulating a plan.
The First Mate (who’s quite a looker) abandoned me for most of the day. I’ll plot my revenge later.
The day started normally enough. Cereal was on the menu for breakfast. While other crews I’ve led allow the captain peace and quiet during meals, I can tell this group will be different. There was shouting and even purposeful spilling — an undignified lot, to be sure.
As most days do out at sea, we started with chores. Today was laundry. The crew carried out their duties well — which was a pleasant surprise. To entertain themselves during their sorting and folding, I heard them singing. As I listened closer, I could hear the lyrics were of a fecal nature. How disgusting.
By the end of chore time, we hit land. We disembarked at port and no one was there — clearly an abandoned (and cold) island of some sort. We explored the new terrain with our land vehicles. The younger one, again the fieriest of the crew, complained of hunger incessantly. I could see instantly how her attitude demoralized the rest of the crew. Next time, I suppose I should carry snacks like a common steward. What has become of me?
We came back aboard for some study. This young crew of mine is fairly scholarly, at least in theory. Although I have to admit their choice of reading is curious. I can’t quite see the appeal of reading about a pigeon, even if it does want to drive a bus. Pigeons are hideous creatures, no better than rats.
Next, came lunch. It does feel as if the members of this crew would like to be eating continuously. It’s all a bit exhausting. The ship’s cook was worked into a frenzy as, yet again, the crew carried on with their ill manners and louder than necessary conversations.
By the grace of God, next came rest hour and I retreated to my quarters. While I certainly question the need for a professional crew to have rest hour (had they even done anything today?), I felt grateful for it this first day of my new position. The youngest one nearly destroyed her bunk, however. She evidently saw no need for her R&R allotment today and launched a not-so-silent protest. Honestly, if I could court-martial her, I would. But I believe nepotism is in play here and it’s best to not get involved.
The day wore on and eventually the First Mate returned. After being absent all day, I let him take some leadership. I must do my best to empower my mentee.
It’s onto the mess hall for food, yet again. It already feels as if we’ve eaten a thousand meals together as a crew. I hope my time on this ship will be a fruitful one. And I hope these members of my crew will fall in line.
Tomorrow is a new day.