Friday at the space station

I was glad it was Friday. I thought I was going home. I thought about asking if we had casual Fridays, but I didn't bother because I didn't have much of a wardrobe at this point anyway. I made my morning preparations with a gusto and went down to the break room.
I sat down with Minda and asked her when I'd be going back and she said when the ship returns. I asked her when that was and she said "whenever" and that it depended largely on Mekhilta's transit time and/or if there were any complications with her trip. I asked if it were possible for that to be today and she said it was unlikely. That depressed me. I was tired of the weird food and diapers and vacuum toilets and not being able to go out to restaurants or parks or breathe fresh air. With reluctance I went back on the phones.
I didn't get any Dogos calls all day. I got nothing but calls about clothing. I had a couple escalated calls, one about me not knowing everything there is to know about a "dress" and "heels", the other was some guy complaining about how the security was so high and that he placed the order and wanted information I wasn't permitted to give him. The rest were okay, and I figured out how to negotiate to avoid it getting that far.
I had only one call related to the wild story I gave that paparazzi guy. Some guy asked me about my sexual exploits and if I'd ever done a Muperzguz or something. I shrugged and said maybe and laughed. Then I took care of his problem with his order.
I went to lunch then went back on the phones for a few more hours.
A lot of people seemed to hang up when they saw me. Not sure what that was about. They'd look at me, have this weird expression and then they'd disconnect. Oh well.
I logged off for the day and the two females took me aside and started asking about praise songs. I taught them a few, and we had sort of an informal praise service, which included an alien composition that Minda wrote. We studied and did the usual boring stuff until we retired for the night.