[Ensign Kela Nelois - Personal Quarters - Outpost Solaere]
Kela paced his room. He was off duty but his uniform remained on and his hands were on his face. He adjusted a few plates and frowned as he took off a candle, then put it back on, then took it off again, then put it back on. He wished he had a different tablecloth. In hindsight the red and blue patches were not good! He blew out the candle and took it off the table, then put it back on. The candle made it seem too formal. But without it, it didn't look formal enough! He adjusted another plate. He groaned at the inevitably of how this dinner will be a disastor.
The reason for his fickle perfectionism was his invitation for his superior officer, Lieutenant Torra-Addams, to join him for a dinner as a way to introduce himself and set off their working relationship on the right foot. What a fools job this will be. Normally it was Mara who would always organize these things back home and create the social environment where he could talk and get to know people but he was out of his element as just him and it bothered him. Yet despite this Mara still insisted as she always says talking with someone and simply communicating things is the best way to come to a mutual understanding. He should've just avoided the confrontation. This Starfleet job isn't meant to be permanent anyway so why does it matter if his superior officers like him?
Once again his apparent lack of control and understanding of the situation was making his temper rise. So, to distract himself, he turned to the wine and checked the temperature, as it was for the past dozen or so times he checked it, it was of course the correct temperature but Kela still thought it was too cold and set it out. Before quickly setting it back in. If it got too warm it would ruin the taste of his sisters wine. Perhaps he could stall long enough when Lt. Addams arrived that when he had to pour it would be a good temperature.
Satisfied in that answer he once again went to the food. Slightly adjusting a plate he took a look at the courses again and sighed. Kela typically enjoyed cooking but he was by no means good, it was more used as an emotional control method for him. Because of that he lamented the only thing not replicated in the dinner was a salad. For some reason he took the time to handmake a salad of all the dishes. How uncool! He groaned a little wishing his wife were here.
He took a heavy breathe and sat down, whats the worse that could happen? He thought to himself, The Lt. is unimpressed and then his tenure in Starfleet will be permanently ruined by a superior officer who hates him, or worse, he'll have to undergo another psychological evaluation. He again shook those thoughts out of his head as he let the jazz he had in the background calm him. Of course it will go well, the Lieutenant is a normal civilized individual. They will eat, drink exchange stories of their past job experiences and at the end they will have a better working relationship.
Of course it was delusional but he's lived long enough to understand that when his thoughts would get ahead of him like this the best thing to do is just to remove oneself from the situation. It was unrealistic to think about what could or could not be. Best to simply push through because worrying only means you'll suffer twice. He rested in his chair more and let the music in his room continue to distract him until the Lieutenant would arrive.
