A day of repair work and continuing with the cargo ship. Replaced a unit of the “Aelita” medical equipment, regenerated water from technical to drinking supply. No desire for visual observations. Fatigue is setting in. A kind of apathy. I feel the body, like a spring, has used up all its free travel, and now everything operates under tension. Everything has become stale, though my appetite, thank God, is good.

We wash with moist wipes, wiping our faces. We clean our teeth with finger cots with antiseptic — put it on your finger and rub your teeth and gums. Pleasant and convenient. You can also use a brush with paste, but rinsing is a problem, and wiping paste off teeth with a wipe is unpleasant. We always apply cream to our face to avoid dryness and irritation, and wipe our whole body with wet and dry towels. Pleasant enough.

After unloading the Progress, the station is a mess — a dozen regenerators next to me, white cloth bags full of equipment floating between us, the ceiling packed with food boxes. From the ground’s tone, I can tell they’re trying to coddle us — we’ve been flying long. They talk to us as if to sick people, not understanding that this only makes things worse and hurts morale.

We tried self-planning the work program on board, but it’s tiring. When intense work comes, the days pass more easily. Now in the orbital module at my favorite spot, reading magazines. Time for bed.