I keep clickity-typing away and then promptly deleting what I’ve typed. And not by highlighting broad mouse strokes of text and then deleting it, but rather by moving the cursor to the end of a sentence or paragraph and mashing my index finger down the delete key, my physical manifestation of my thinking, “That’s right bitch – I’m deleting you as hard as I can right now” which makes me about as tough as marshmallow fluff. Poet. Right here
Not smoking is going about as well as I’d expct it to when I decided to quit smoking in a war zone, for no reason other than to be a miserable, unsufferable asshole. Added stress includes going to Kuwait to setup comptuers there (shocker) and thinking about maybe, one day, actually getting home.
Got an email from dad today with the following awesome quote:
“And congratulations on the transfer to your new work location! It’s not as good as going to Mississippi (how often do people say that, I wonder?) but it’s a step in the right direction.“
Never, Dad.
I leave for Kuwait tomorrow – and I’m honestly not even excited about the change. Apprehensive? Check. Nervous? Check. Kind of pissed off? Check.
See – going to Kuwait doesn’t actually get me home any quicker – despite Kuwait being “technically” the first place you stop on the way back to the States from Iraq. What happened was someone needs to go to Kuwait and setup computers for the 278th ACR who is coming in – and setup computers for the 155th HBCT who will be leaving Iraq soon and coming back through Kuwait. Coming INTO Iraq, it took three of us about four days to do all this work. In a nutshell, someone has to set everything up.
That someone is me.
Thankfully I kick so much ass I’ll be able to do all this by myself for a bunch of ungrateful, egocentric, and inept officers that despise me as much as I do them.
I’m like a fat, angry, tattooed little swiss army knife of hate. Sure, I have the ability to do whatever job you want me to – but that doesn’t mean that I want to do it. I feel more and more like the last nine months I’ve been used as a primary technical resource – despite no-one from the unit knowing… anythhing… about our equipment.
That is really, really frustrating.
So I’ll go to Kuwait, get everything setup there and proceed to goof off. I’m not 100% sure how I’m going to accomplish that one – but I’m gonna try my derndest.
Oh, and today’s my birthday – rah rah rah. Ordinarily I hate my birthday and this one I really loathe.
At least I’m not 30.
This year.
lol @ “fat, angry, tattooed little swiss army knife of hate.”
Happy Birthday?
F that, your birthday rules!
That’s the spirit! You are an inspiration to us all.
holy shit and what a crock of rotten garbage…turn 29, go to Kuwait…do not pass go, do not get two hundred dollars
i’m so sorry my wonderful angry, tattooed little swiss army knife of hate.
turning 30 is going to be a frickin birthday of awesomeness after this!
i love you my son…you have been on my heart and mind all day…and as I type this it is like 9:30 am on the 20th for you…probably about time to get in the shithook and take an unexpected trip…home soon, we are all sending every fliggin possible bit of positive energy for home soon
Congrats on the not-turning-30 part! Sorry I’m a few days late. My 31st birthday happens to fall on Tuesday, and I’m looking forward to it about as much as I look forward to, well, something horrible I can’t come up with because I’m not witty like you. =P
I also want to say that the non-smokingness is awesome.
And while it’s only January, I’m submitting, “I’m like a fat, angry, tattooed little swiss army knife of hate” as quote of the year. Yet another example of how wittingly awesome you are. (Is that a word?)
Happy Birthday?