This ain’t a vacation, but it’s definitely a change of pace

[aadler]

 
Another post from the thrill-a-minute that is my life.

Open First Cut: Weather

Yesterday I thought the rainy season had come in with a bang. During the night, copious thunder and wind that shook our CHUs (Containerized Housing Units), followed by rain that lasted for hours; come daylight, even when the rain slacked off, the half-mile walk from my living area to my duty station had become a matter of island-hopping along archipelagoes of gravel-patches in a sea of mud flats.

However, no further rain since then. Which is nice, because the mud is a major hassle. Not the semi-liquid stuff that we think of when we hear ‘mud’, no; the truly serious annoyance is the ground that gets wet enough to be sticky, and then sticks to the soles of your boots, further layers with each step, until you’re walking on four inches or more of caked crap. There are boot-brush stands at the doors of every major area, but those get overloaded quickly when they’re needed most; even though they still work, they drop from 97% effective to maybe 80%.

The nice thing? cooler weather. For weeks now the noon temperature was at or below 100°F, which was itself a 20-25° drop from the average high when I arrived; today, the thermometer installed at the corner on my way to the chow hall showed below 80°, which I don’t think I’ve seen before during daylight, except maybe first thing in the morning.

When ‘cold’ weather breaks out, we’ll be using our Arctic gear, because our blood has been so thinned to accommodate the heat, we’ve lost our normal tolerances. For now, though, it’s nice.

Close First Cut

Open Second Cut: Military and Political

Yes, another big double-bombing in Baghdad this week. If you can’t kill Americans, hey, blow up a hundred or so fellow Arabs, that’ll show everybody you’re a genuine patriot! And now, of course, the Taliban is attacking Pakistani targets and even Iran has had some of its senior people blown up by local malcontents … I swear, if you can’t trust your own home-grown terrorists, what’s the world coming to? Remember the old mantra, “One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter?” Suddenly we discover they’re all terrorists, that once you get into the habit of murdering civilians en masse as a route to power and prestige, the particular targets become less important than what is gained by hitting them.

Maybe this will get them recognized for what they are: the common enemies of all civilized peoples everywhere.

I don’t deal with any of that stuff myself, I never go outside the wire. (“I am the very model of the modern fobbit.”) Rockets get tossed our way every now and then — three times, that I’ve been aware of, in three months — but it’s a big base, and my own personal peril would probably be greater in big-city traffic.

Close Second Cut

Open Third Cut: Fanfic writing blues

Personnel changes keep messing with me, though. I had truly hoped, once we got things settled down where I am, that my work hours might reduce to approximately the level of your normal full-time job (albeit seven days a week), and I wanted to use the opportunity to take another shot at NaNoWriMo. Not gonna happen. One of my subordinates is expected to spend a week elsewhere as a fill-in; he’s the one who just got back from leave, and my other subordinate will be taking leave toward the end of the month, and there are other things in the meantime that have tossed various wrenches in the works. The job is easier than it used to be, because we’ve gotten better at it, but I just don’t see how I could have enough spare time — especially on a sustained basis — to manage 1,700 words a day, thirty days in sequence.

So, I guess I’ll just have to find the time to do regular writing: say, a new story every three weeks or so, maybe one a month. I already know the one I’d like to tackle next, I spent some time trying to get inspiration from sroni and wound up ironing out some internal kinks on my own. And there are others … I never have a shortage of ideas, it’s always a matter of finding the time.

Close Third Cut

I’m ready to go to chow, and then back to my CHU to relax for the few hours until bedtime. This is me, signing off.