I am officially an astroNOT.
There are so many reasons I could not be an astronaut. Matter of fact, if people were gathered in a room discussing their ability to be astronauts, I would have to leave because I would have nothing to contribute. And if I suggested I might be suited in any way for the occupation, laughter would ensue.
Let me list the ways that I am astronaut-less:
1. I actually am larger and weigh more than the space capsule in which I would be inserted.
2. Claustrophobia. It is not a good thing to have when you’re living in an enclosure that fits you like a glove.
3. I don’t like toothpaste for brushing my teeth, let alone for squeezing out food from a tube for dinner.
4. Peeing in my spacesuit. Distasteful.
5. Training. Physical training is not at the top of my list for pleasure. I exercise–on occasion–because I am threatened with death.
6. Having megatons of high explosives directly under my ass exploding, with the hopes of propelling me into space.
7. Weightlessness (although I have to admit, it sounds like an easier way to shed pounds).
8. Walking on the moon just seems weird.
9. Sharing a small space with other people who hate you because you’re taking up their space.
10. Returning to Earth.
So you see, I shall never be an astronaut.
I will not pretend I’m an astronaut, nor shall I bore you any further by writing about my weaknesses in becoming an astronaut.
P.S. Yet, my friend, Janet Clazzy, could be an astronaut. (I actually don’t know whether she could or not, but it’s her birthday today, and this was a really cheap way of mentioning it…)
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix