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08 May 2006

8 May 2006

Another drill weekend down, and, as always, I've found myself in serious need of comfort food. Something about the utter lack of professionalism that just *kills* me. I mean, I'm not completely opposed to *having* a family day picnic, but it shouldn't be *during* drill hours--have it after drill, or on another weekend. Of course, I did have the biggest laugh of the year so far on Sunday, as cleanup operations were coming to a close. Here's the story:
The unit had taken a lot of folding, steel chairs from the drill hall out to the park. After the picnic, they loaded these chairs, along with a wheeled trolley designed to carry about fifty chairs at a time, onto a truck and drove them back to the drill hall. So, I finish doing dishes and come out to find soldiers taking chairs off the truck, handing them *over* the trolley, and carrying them *by hand* a hundred feet across the drill hall to the storage room. I watched three people do this before I shouted "Stop, stop, stop!" About a dozen people were staring at me as I made a big, dramatic gesture at the trolley. "Wheels. WHEELS?" I said. No one moved for about five seconds, and then one of the sergeants present started loading chairs onto the trolley. As I was walking away to find another job, I said, "Tomorrow's class will be on levers, with inclined planes if time allows."
I had to bail on Mom and Dad again on Saturday afternoon. It seems so obvious, on Friday nights before drill, that I should just be able to drive down to Mexico on Saturday afternoon and have lunch with the family. Of course, Saturday afternoon rolls around and my night-shift oriented biological clock says "Nuh-uh--time for go to bed". A la Tor Johnson. SORRY!!

I have stepped down from my pre-box job at MBS, and I'll be talking to HRO about hostile work environments this week. After I started keeping a journal of everything I did to counter the *slough* of false accusations from the day shift shortage control people, they simply started sending derogatory e-mails with my name included, but no information to investigate. And they didn't send them to me, or to my boss--they sent them to my boss's boss's boss. Also, I've discovered that the turnover rate for this job is *huge*, for exactly this reason--so somebody needs to look into it.
On the up side, since my supervisor understands the situation, I've been allowed to keep the hourly bonus even though I won't be working in that position any more. And, I'm going back to shipping, where I've always enjoyed working, anyway.

Kevin is back from his latest military school, although I haven't spoken to him yet. He seemed to find it less than stimulating.

Mom and Dad have almost finished moving. Apparently, there's a bunch of my stuff in their attic that I need to come get so that they can finish--I'm sort of excited. I might finally find that box I asked them not to lose when I left for boot camp! :)

All my best--Jason

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