Diary of a space station swabber

Sidereal year, 4301. Day 244.If I told you I am working on a Space Station, you would probably picture my life cool and thrillful. And it might even be true if I had a job with real responsibilities in my work description, or I were a member of a crew of a visiting spaceship. But if you are the part of the care-and-maintenance crew… well, your job might lack responsibility and curious adventures. Or any kind of excitement. I am currently working at the BB65XQ Space Station, for the third month right now. I have never been so far from the Solar System of the Earth, but I must admit, it is pretty neat here. But the life of the cleaning and the care-and-maintenance crew still sucks, even here; we work twelve long hours a day, we have to deal with the filthiest stuff and we have nothing to do in our cabins after the working day is done. We have no access to the de-lux services, like the spa or the gym. We are too poor to even go to the bar. All we can do is taking turns in poring on the holo-TV and the plain wall. I doubt that anyone will ever read this diary since my only goal with writing is to kill some boredom, but for safety’s sake, I’d introduce myself. You can call me Max. Yeah, simply Max. Okay, originally my name was M4X-B312, but it would be freakin’ weird if anyone called me that. I lack the family name and family as well. I’ve been told that I was born on a spaceship, which was crashed into the PQ14B Space Station, soon after my birth. My parents did not make it. So, I become the inmate of the one-person orphanage on the Space Station. I got my identifier –M4X-B312- there, but the nurturers already called me Max by then. I belong to mankind, which is not a good point either if you wanna build your carrier on a Space Station. I studied and became an engineer, which was the only reason why they hired me as a janitor. Maybe if I continue my studies, I could even become a plasmic-drive mechanic. But the orphanage only afforded my disbursements until I finished my first school, so I had to go and find a job. Many years have passed and I am still where I started. Soon I’ll be 150 years old – which means I am middle-aged on a human scale – but I am still a bachelor, without any kids or a proper job. My colleagues are always younger than me, and they will always be, ’cause they are all gone after a few months to seek for better money. Speaking of which, I have to go now. Some greenhorns arrived today.