Sunday. Headache. Forehead feels like pressure. An apathetic mood. I don’t want to do anything. I could just lie down and sleep right now. But I have to wait for the comm session and get the radiogram for tomorrow’s work.

It’s all right. In two months we’ll start ticking off the negatives. The flight will end.

During the day, students from the Shchukin Theatre School came on. They were pleasantly nervous and entertained us well. They sang with us.

We fly in space. Two of us for all the humanity of Earth. We’re up here, yet our thoughts and problems are absurdly petty. It’s a shame, such a mismatch between great deeds and small concerns.