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I think i've finally hit on the perfect weight loss plan: extended viewings starring most of all Timothy Stack as Notch Johnson is guaranteed to ensure a dip on appetite. I love this show so much, and yet it's hell when my dinnertime of meat medallions and veggie soup coincides with Notch's refusal to wear any clothes. Whah, lawd, whah? Ooo, Johnson/Milosevic slash! I'm saved!
I guess everybody does love Johnson...
I've been so tired lately. Who isn't? I've had no energy. The email piles up, responses go unresponded, etc.
Why can't the most evil people in the world be Dr. Forrester, TV's Frank, Pearl, and Mayor Anita Massengill? Just a passing thought.
Tuesday and Wednesday were weird. Tuesday i finally found out why the Ed center hadn't paid my tuition assistance-- i never processed the application in the first fucking place. Well, i thought i had crossed all my i's and dotted my t's, but i was missing a few crucial signatures. i went home and freaked out. Yes, i don't cry last week, but face the prospect of losing $750 and i crumble. I try and tell myself that it's the the straw that broke the camel's back-- you think you're fine and cool, and then you stub your toe and it's all over. Not to say that stubbing your toe doesn't hurt like hell; i tore half of my big toenail away on a particularly vicious swipe.
But all turned out well. I wrote a "Spc S, ya'll fucked up" letter in Cpt Pyle's name, he signed off on it, and by Wed afternoon they decided to give me the tuition retroactively for the spring. Given the speed with which the approval was given, i reckon i could've written anything in that letter and it would've been ok'd, so long as i accepted blame (not a problem since it *was* my screwup). But still, the thought that you can write a letter that saves you 750 bucks is pow-ah, baby.
Had dinner with Nancy yesterday. Was good, good, and more good on top of that. Sometimes when you're in a social setting with people you work with the conversation draaaaaags and then diiiiiiies as you run out of things to say. Not with Nancy-- we talked about real stuff and frivolous stuff and i told her why i was really moving to Chicago, and she said she kinda guessed. (Mary, it's more than a little ob-vi-ous...my words, not hers) It's not that i have a compulsion to tell the whole world, but i've worked with her a long time and i wanted to tell her the truth, plus i sensed she would be okay with it.
Come to think of it, Wednesday was full of good things. I got a 4 day pass for helping out with our lab inspection (gosh, i didn't get you anything for Xmas! i belted out). That means my last working day is 28 Sep (so far), plus i bought Sophie's Kitty Starter Kit komplete with sifting litter box pan, tuna treats, and Iams, and...well, i guess i'm going to be okay.
I don't know, most days i just feel numb. It passes, and i'll feel periods of happiness or sadness, but most of the time it's this unshifting melancholy that makes everything feel flat. I'm running low on energy, and it takes me a long time to feel much of anything except this weird uneasy feeling. It's usually when i'm by myself that i feel numb, and you'd think that would mean i should get out there and interact with the world, but most days i just want to wander around in a daze by myself or curl up in bed and pretend the world isn't there. But then when i'm with good people i forget i feel this way. And i hate that i feel this way-- i should get off my ass and Do Something! I don't know what. I feel embarrassed that i've been such a slack even though i have done my part. My part doesn't involve taking trips to the exotic beaches (huh?) of Afghanistan, at least not yet, but i know if i was actually involved in something awful i'm hideously unprepared.
My part does involve teaching people who to manage chemical casualties, and today? some of these people, yikes. Just sitting on the ground in their chemical suits, not listening to a word we say, "contaminating" themselves with carefree abandon. it doesn't make me feel any more secure, esp now when so much is at stake. Fun stuff though: i got to be the casualty contaminated by hallucinogenic agents. It was beautiful-- all i had to do was close my eyes and think of college and i was golden.
i think i'm the only person in the Army that thinks Dubya is an ass-paralyzing coward, apropos of nothing. the same guy who deserted the Texas Air Natl Guard for two years during Vietnam and the guy who decided to take a whirlwind tour of the Middle of Nowhere, USA, is now acting like Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda and is running around like Rambo without a jockstrap. Okay, i'm hardly the most unbiased person in the world when it comes to him either, but the pure unbridled feeling of contempt i have for the man. I feel like i'm living in BizarroWorld where i'm telling Michael Moore to just fuck the Shut UP! already and where i'm saluting President Powell. He's one of the few men right now that makes the sphincter unclench.
There was more, but my brain is fogging over and i don't think i've said anything at all.
I guess everybody does love Johnson...
I've been so tired lately. Who isn't? I've had no energy. The email piles up, responses go unresponded, etc.
Why can't the most evil people in the world be Dr. Forrester, TV's Frank, Pearl, and Mayor Anita Massengill? Just a passing thought.
Tuesday and Wednesday were weird. Tuesday i finally found out why the Ed center hadn't paid my tuition assistance-- i never processed the application in the first fucking place. Well, i thought i had crossed all my i's and dotted my t's, but i was missing a few crucial signatures. i went home and freaked out. Yes, i don't cry last week, but face the prospect of losing $750 and i crumble. I try and tell myself that it's the the straw that broke the camel's back-- you think you're fine and cool, and then you stub your toe and it's all over. Not to say that stubbing your toe doesn't hurt like hell; i tore half of my big toenail away on a particularly vicious swipe.
But all turned out well. I wrote a "Spc S, ya'll fucked up" letter in Cpt Pyle's name, he signed off on it, and by Wed afternoon they decided to give me the tuition retroactively for the spring. Given the speed with which the approval was given, i reckon i could've written anything in that letter and it would've been ok'd, so long as i accepted blame (not a problem since it *was* my screwup). But still, the thought that you can write a letter that saves you 750 bucks is pow-ah, baby.
Had dinner with Nancy yesterday. Was good, good, and more good on top of that. Sometimes when you're in a social setting with people you work with the conversation draaaaaags and then diiiiiiies as you run out of things to say. Not with Nancy-- we talked about real stuff and frivolous stuff and i told her why i was really moving to Chicago, and she said she kinda guessed. (Mary, it's more than a little ob-vi-ous...my words, not hers) It's not that i have a compulsion to tell the whole world, but i've worked with her a long time and i wanted to tell her the truth, plus i sensed she would be okay with it.
Come to think of it, Wednesday was full of good things. I got a 4 day pass for helping out with our lab inspection (gosh, i didn't get you anything for Xmas! i belted out). That means my last working day is 28 Sep (so far), plus i bought Sophie's Kitty Starter Kit komplete with sifting litter box pan, tuna treats, and Iams, and...well, i guess i'm going to be okay.
I don't know, most days i just feel numb. It passes, and i'll feel periods of happiness or sadness, but most of the time it's this unshifting melancholy that makes everything feel flat. I'm running low on energy, and it takes me a long time to feel much of anything except this weird uneasy feeling. It's usually when i'm by myself that i feel numb, and you'd think that would mean i should get out there and interact with the world, but most days i just want to wander around in a daze by myself or curl up in bed and pretend the world isn't there. But then when i'm with good people i forget i feel this way. And i hate that i feel this way-- i should get off my ass and Do Something! I don't know what. I feel embarrassed that i've been such a slack even though i have done my part. My part doesn't involve taking trips to the exotic beaches (huh?) of Afghanistan, at least not yet, but i know if i was actually involved in something awful i'm hideously unprepared.
My part does involve teaching people who to manage chemical casualties, and today? some of these people, yikes. Just sitting on the ground in their chemical suits, not listening to a word we say, "contaminating" themselves with carefree abandon. it doesn't make me feel any more secure, esp now when so much is at stake. Fun stuff though: i got to be the casualty contaminated by hallucinogenic agents. It was beautiful-- all i had to do was close my eyes and think of college and i was golden.
i think i'm the only person in the Army that thinks Dubya is an ass-paralyzing coward, apropos of nothing. the same guy who deserted the Texas Air Natl Guard for two years during Vietnam and the guy who decided to take a whirlwind tour of the Middle of Nowhere, USA, is now acting like Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda and is running around like Rambo without a jockstrap. Okay, i'm hardly the most unbiased person in the world when it comes to him either, but the pure unbridled feeling of contempt i have for the man. I feel like i'm living in BizarroWorld where i'm telling Michael Moore to just fuck the Shut UP! already and where i'm saluting President Powell. He's one of the few men right now that makes the sphincter unclench.
There was more, but my brain is fogging over and i don't think i've said anything at all.
