I love my job. While most people tend to fall asleep when I talk about the things that really interest me, my co-workers actually remain conscious.
The new guy, Augustus, isn’t quite as new as he once was, and he seems to very forgiving of the hazing he received during his early days. He’s actually a good friend now, and always up for a game of chess during a lunch break. Even better, I almost always win, which is great for my nerd ego. It also gives me a chance to unwind after a hard day of mixing toxic chemical compounds or lighting the lab on fire. I worry sometimes that spending so much time with humans might make Sparky jealous, but he seems to be dealing with it.
Speaking of work, a new project has been assigned to the team that I’m really excited about. We’re building a rocket. No, not just a rocket — this is an actual spaceship. When it’s done, it’ll be capable of interstellar travel. I thought my satellite dish was going to be the key to proving aliens exist and have visited Earth, but this… with this rocket we’ll be able to walk right up to their front doors and ask them. Scoff if you want; I know most of my co-workers do. They find my interest in alien life quaint… obsessive, even. I don’t mind. When we’ve got indisputable proof of alien visitors, we’ll see who gets the last laugh.
Things have been going great for Wanda here at Omniscience, too. Or so I hear — we rarely ever cross paths at work, since she’s over at the Botany campus and I’m over here. She loves her work; nothing makes Wanda happier than having the opportunity to genetically modify a few organisms.
She’s been bringing some of her work home, and I can’t say I mind at all. She’s created quite a diverse little garden, and it’s been a great source of fresh fruit and vegetables. So far she’s collected specimens of all of the edible plants we’ve discovered here on the island, and on weekends we’ve been making day trips to Oasis Springs and Willow Creek for specimens that aren’t native to this area. Pretty soon her backyard garden is going to look like a full-fledged farming operation.
Between Wanda’s cooking skill and ingredients pulled fresh from the tree minutes before, I’m eating like a king lately. I’ve even had to resort to hitting the gym at work on occasion to keep myself in shape. It’s definitely not my favorite thing in the world, but… well, you’ve seen Wanda. She could easily do better then a dork like me. If I let myself devolve into a pot-bellied, neck-bearded slob, she may just decide to go elsewhere, you know? Not that I think she actually would, but I’m not taking any chances.
Then again, I keep hearing that Steve Wozniak can still find dates, so maybe there’s hope for me.
OK, I’m off. Mr. Seymour (who’s been very insistent lately that I call him Hugh, but some habits are hard to break) has invited Wanda and I out for after-work drinks, and I don’t want to miss happy hour.