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Preview — The Martian by Andy Weir
I’m not giving up. Just planning for every outcome. It’s what I do.
This is a pointless task.” “How long have you worked for the government?” Venkat sighed.
The rover and trailer regulate their own temperatures just fine, but things weren’t hot enough in the bedroom. Story of my life.
I’m traveling 90 kilometers per day as usual, but I only get 37 kilometers closer to Schiaparelli because Pythagoras is a dick.
It’s true, you know. In space, no one can hear you scream like a little girl.
Anyway, my ribs hurt like hell, my vision is still blurry from acceleration sickness, I’m really hungry, it’ll be another 211 days before I’m back on Earth, and, apparently, I smell like a skunk took a shit on some sweat socks. This is the happiest day of my life.