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12/16/94
Another day in paradise! The doc tells me that journaling is the secret to "unlocking my hidden traumas" but I think a vacation for a week down to Key Largo with my lady and some frozen mango margaritas would certainly do the trick.
I just don't think anyone else really understands what I went through.
She's right, though. It does help. Not with remembering anything, not yet. But getting my thoughts down on paper/written somewhere also helps me leave all of this here in the office. Can't talk to Lisa at home about it anyway, so if I don't write it down before I leave it just rattles around my head, echoing off the insides of my skull until I walk in the next day.
Anyway, today has been a good day. Got the last track done today from the transient cassette we found in Iceland back in October. Migratory Drift. What the hell kind of name is that, anyway? Boring, droning, blah, blah. Where's Van Halen, baby? Give me their take on Motley Crue! Nikki is out there somewhere. Someone in this deviation must have been shredding on some killer tunes but of course with my luck, that record is probably in some deep trench at the bottom of the fucking ocean, and I'm here with this ambient, feel-good bullshit.
In better news, everything going up in STS-67 is looking good. No issues. Curious what we're going to find up there, but I'm not holding my breath. This work is rewarding, yes. But I know the results may not come 'til I'm long gone.
Dec 16 94
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