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Bloggage Control

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I haven't been abducted by aliens (yet) I'm just having a meltdown on my nuclear battleship. I, being the Damage Control Officer, must do my duty to the end.
I'm somewhere between Three Mile Island/The China Syndrome and Chernobyl. Actually...I keep fluctuating between them. We could go full on red alert battle-stations, but guess what? I'm the only one on the stinkin' ship!
So I'm trying to keep my little life vest on and do my rounds.
Damage control stuff. Probably the only thing worse than Chernobyl is the awesome puffy mushroom cloud, but I won't be going there, that requires walking up a hill and I'm too exhausted to walk uphill.
So there's that.
This all feels SOOOOO NOT REAL DOODS.
Can I just come back and talk to you now & then?
Nobody freak out or anything or PLEASE don't ask what's wrong because that will breech (breach?) my lockdown concentration and you know, mushroom clouds start looking fluffy and not so uphill.
But I just want to keep checking in as part of my little dealy-o with meself and me ship and get some stuff off my hairy, tattooed chest.
I have a big mouth and always whine at you guys anyway, so I'll eventually tell you what's got me dropping marbles today, just right now I don't want to see it typed out.
No one's sick or injured, it's just my brain being its usual loony self, bit off kilter today.
"Uh, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh... everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you?"

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