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08 January 2003

Brain drain
OK, officially I'm supposed to be heading to bed since I just promised Kurt I wouldn't stay up too late. And because I usually read for at least fifteen minutes before drifting off to sleep, I know it's going to be well after 1am by the time I get to la la land. For the second night in a row. Ahem. But when I saw that it has been WAY too long since last I updated, I had to remedy the problem immediately.

For I am the Queen of Procrastination.

Anyhoo, so this morning dawned oh so lovely after getting a bit of snow last night that didn't really stick to much but the grass. Plus I got the added benefit of seeing what exactly dawn looks like nowadays. Not having to work, I kind of forgot what it's like being awake at 5:30am. It's cold, let me tell you.

So why was I up at that ungodly hour, you ask? Kurt was told yesterday that he had to be at this awards ceremony this morning because he was getting some kind of award or recognition for being at his duty station for the past three years. However, it was pretty evident from the first that he wasn't going to be among the ones honored (yet), and that I had dragged my lazy ass out of bed for naught. Plus I felt weird, being the only civilian in the room. They keep telling all the folks who are in the Navy to bring dependents, but Kurt's the only one who ever does. I think I'm the only wife who's EVER gone to the shop, and I am certain I'm the only one who knows almost everyone who works there, both first and second shifts (about fifteen to twenty people).

I know, I know... early to bed and early to rise and all that jazz.

I took an hour and a half nap this morning when we got back. :o)

Then the highlight of our day arrived!!!

(That was sarcasm, y'all.)

See, the Armed Forces of this great nation thinks we ought to take a class on how to move from one duty station to another. I think it's a pretty good idea, so you don't waste personnel's time with counseling each and every family on an individual basis. But I swear they picked the dumbest people to be in that class with us.

Let's see... one guy didn't realize that the packers were going to come and actually pack his stuff up for him. This was after the speaker repeatedly stated that if we pack our own stuff up, the packers are required to at least look into the boxes and be aware of how it's all packed. So before he asked the question, it was answered.

Then there was the woman who was doing the move herself because her sailor husband was already at his next duty station, and wanted to know if she should put down her social security number or her husband's. People, they don't care about dependents. They need the service member's information. Then she started getting nervous, and giggling a lot, and telling everyone she's "just" a stay-at-home mom who cares for other children during the day. The question about weapons came up, and we were told that we couldn't transport ammunition and the like since it's explosive and/or flammable (can't take propane tanks either). So this same woman wants to know if her sword collection will be ok to transport. Lady, swords don't spontaneously combust when they get hot in storage like ammo does.

At the very beginning of the class, the instructor told us to turn off all cell phones, pages, etc, or at least put them on vibrate. Several people came in ten minutes late, even though we were supposed to be there fifteen minutes prior to the appointment time. And yes, a cell phone belonging to one of the late people went off mid-class.

Kurt was told about a dozen times on the telephone to bring in six copies of his orders to Seattle. When the class was over and we were being instructed on how to put our folders together, we were told to put the six copies of the orders on top. Of course, about three people said, "I only have one copy of my orders...."

So by the time we got down, Kurt and I felt like every drop of intelligence that we owned had drained out of our heads. It was awful. And I know that in just a few years, I'll be doing yet another class for another move.

Happy happy joy joy.

And in other joyous news, the likelihood right now is, if Saddam doesn't start behaving himself (fat chance), Kurt's ship will leave for a six-month deployment to the Gulf as soon as we get to Seattle. So he'll dump me there and wave goodbye. That's ok -- hopefully, we'll be able to get a house and I'll be able to set it up how I like it without him being in the way. ;o)

Besides, I think it's time we oughta just go out and whup up on some Saddam ass!!!!




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