Beautiful Disaster

My life feels like finely orchestrated chaos. Making decisions is like throwing a dart into a tornado, my surroundings are as calm as an tempest, and to top it all off the place where I can feel solace, peace, and where I belong has become a no man's land.

A leader of mine (shall we dub her USS Dramaticus?) has, of late, accused me of trying to sabotage her social life (you can just call me the Flub-marine). It was a long sordid affair that I do not care to repeat, but in no uncertain terms while the USS Dramaticus was feigning peace talks with a little white-flag waving dingy on the starboard she was really just setting depth charges from the port side. Meaning, while she made the preemptive strike to explain she was not having any communication with a known, unstable foreign despot she was knowingly sending coded messages to the same individual.

Needless to say, trying to stay seaworthy in the wake of USS Dramaticus is challenging at best. The true kicker of treason was the communique I received today praising my virtues of intellect and beauty. My thoughts? Don't try to blow smoke up my torpedo launchers, my periscope works just fine.

My war game tactic? DIVE! DIVE! DIVE! and just float under the radar until USS Dramaticus is assigned a new post.