I sleep rather peacefully. I didn't set my alarm on purpose, knowing we had no missions. Jacksons memorial service isn't something I wanted to attend. I'd had enough sorrow. I slip into one of my fresh flight suits, roll the sleeves up, and grab my garrison cap + gloves.
On my way out, I pat my helmet, solid black with a large red star on it, and walk out the door, heading for the mess hall.