Thanking God

Nothing like the kidnapping of a partner to knock the wind out of your sails. It’s been a mess over here. Cold nights and worry running rampant. Don’t know why Jason was targeted, but everyone took it pretty hard. Didn’t think he was going to make it back to us. But thankfully the Agency’s little injection only served to scare the tar out of us, not kill Jason. Thanking God for that one.

Bogus gray streak

What I want to know is why I don’t get my own bunkhouse too. I love Hotshot to death, but come on… how come he gets the soft bed every night, when I’m still out here in the boonies, listening to Austin snore, fighting Con to get the good blanket before we sack out, and putting up with Pete’s late-night munchie madness. It’s just not fair! I don’t have a streak of gray hair just to show it off you know – doesn’t age have any bearings?

Okay… so that bogus streak of gray has nothing to do with age. I’ve had it since I was sixteen after that lovely surgery. But that’s beside the point, right?

What was the point again? I don’t know. It’s time for bed.