Challenge #02317-F127: Unexpected Mineral Deposit
Toilets are necessary. Each species their own. Some don’t even produce waste, because they literally use EVERYTHING they have. Others recycle.
Toilets in outer space are subsequently vital for Most species of Aliens and so as Clean as they can only be. You could AND can literally eat from them.
However, they didn’t realise the hygienical nightmare of an outer space toilet in an Asteroid used by Humans.
(I think everyone knows, how a toilet on an interstate section with Zero Maintenance is) ^^ – Anon Guest
Everyone uses the low-G toilet in the same way - in a state of near-permanent confusion and reading the instructions with a baffled squint. For everyone else, there are multi-species amenities with mobile additions that are confounding to everyone who has no idea what they’re for. Speculation, of course, abounds.
At Podunk Station, however, the chief question is, “Who the flakk left this disaster zone?” it is a station so remote that hardly anyone ever stops there to begin with. As an experiment in a fully-automated rest stop facility… it makes excellent salvage. The Cleaners and the Skitties there are feral. So are the actual vermin, but people notice the Skitties and the Cleaners.
Just like Trucker Marjoram did when she had to stop there. The vendomats contained the topmost selling snack stuff, including the most popular beverages… and the waste elimination facilities… were practically a cesspit on their own. Throwing a Cleaner or three in there didn’t help by much. The giant blue slugs just slithered straight out of there again. Marjoram didn’t blame them, really.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Spinning my wheels…
I hate wasting time.
Lots of things that need to get done depend highly on other people doing them. Because I lack the skills, the knowledge, the money or the resources to do it myself. So I end up sitting around waiting for other people to get the thumb out of their collective butts.
Time bleeds away. Hour by hour.
I’ve organized and packed the kids’ bags so they’re ready for school. I’ve matched and rounded up socks for the kids. We have new shoes. Fresh lunch boxes and things to fill them with. Clean drink bottles for their water. New cooler bricks to keep their lunches cold.
Mayhem’s room is still not organized, though. That depends on Hubby and his brother. I lack the knowledge and skill to do what I’m depending on them to do.
For all I know, they won’t do a damn thing about the room and the renovations, and decide to play computer games all day. And all night. Keeping Mayhem awake and ensuring his sleep cycle’s ruined for Monday.
Hubby and brother have a long history of ignoring me until the last possible second before meltdown.
It makes me depressed to know this. Depression makes me neglect myself. That’s not good. For me, or the kids.