The really scary thing is that, at some level, the chemical hypnosis thing [i]is[/i] sexy, in that primal monkey shudder sort of way. Imagine trusting someone enough to do that with them. Now stop and imagine federal governments having access to that. Yeah, that’s right, horny monkey. How do you like that ice cold shower of suits in sunglasses and disposable patsies? Brrrrr.

Focus. If he’s writing about something that illegal? Cops might have an excuse for questioning him about it. Domestic labor? Still a little risky. “The construction angle,” she says, smoothly. “That’s the project you’ve been working on. Makes for a good excuse for meandering all over the station and crashing here at odd hours.” She’s more speaking out loud to heart right now, but maybe it’s sinking in? No, it’s really more for her benefit, so she remembers it’s what they (she) decided on.

As for that ramble at the end— he’s right about the hand soap, probably. (Vague memories of hearing that it was four different companies trying to make basically the same thing, though.) Incredibly correct on the four day work week, ??? on the aglets (surely it’s just so it’s easier to thread them, right? right??), and as for home ownership…

Well. [i]Is[/i] he right?