Mr. Peabody has insisted that I attend the morning meetings. He feels it’s critical that I be present when he hands out the work assignments to the colonists and the survey team. Lt. McAllister, who is the head of the survey team, has been trying to diplomatically explain to Peabody that he has a schedule of tasks already and that Mr. Peabody needs to stop trying to assign the survey team work. I explained it in a more direct manner after the morning meeting. The conversation is surely going to result in a formal complaint. Mr. Peabody seems to find my manner, as he puts it, Unprofessional, ragged, and thoroughly unpleasant. I’m not sure if his having taken more than a week to say anything is a testament to his civil bearing or his lack of a clue.
McAllister and his team found some cave about a kilometer from the camp. I’ve made them off limits until the Marines have finished the training schedule. I’m sure someone is going to go up there before I say it’s okay, after all no one really puts much stock in my being in charge, least of all me. If I did I’d have posted a guard, and placed a remote sensor, or a sign, or some cans and a string. But I guess I’m just not that invested in giving a shit. Or, more than likely, I’m waiting for someone to disobey my instructions so I can be a bastard to them. I am a mean drunk. And I haven’t been drinking. I wonder if this is the DTs?