I’m trying to scare myself into packing
I’m packing right now. Can’t you tell? I have lost track of how many times I have performed the act of moving over the past ten years, but I can at least say that I have arrived at the point where I no longer say, “I joined the Navy because I like to move around.” Nope, I now just say, “I joined the Navy because I was too lazy to look for a job.” It’s still the truth.
So, I have two suitcases sitting over in my door-less bedroom. I am envisioning myself pulling them out and throwing in clothes that I will be wearing for the next two months where I won’t have my household goods. The packers will take the bulk of my clothes, and I will try my best not to look like an itinerant scrungebucket (yes that’s a word, just ask my Dad) while still in language training and at home for the holidays.
I’m wondering if I should start getting nervous. Everyday I am CC’d on emails from about six different people, all talking past me and giving different reasons on why their office cannot yet secure funding for my house in Dakar. I’m at the point where I kind of know what it feels like to be the orphan kid who no one wants, but is going to have to get stuck with someone. That’s me. Inch‘Allah, I tell myself, this thing will get sorted out. I’m not sure who any of these people “working” my behalf are, or who exactly is the person that I should really be harassing in order to get this sorted out. Instead, I cheerfully Reply To All (something that I hate), pose dumb questions to the group, and wait for the flurry of responses that point their fingers in another direction. I also periodically carbon copy the president of my scholarship foundation, in order to keep these fine people in the loop. Today he responded to the latest round of useless e-mails by asking me to give him a call. Uh oh. Maybe I needed to be a bigger pain in the ass over the past six months….
So I called, tried to inflate my pathetic detective footwork in trying to solve the housing dilemma. After I finished he paused for a good few seconds, then basically said, “You have orders, right?”
Me: “Yes, Sir.”
Him: “Well, if the Navy generated your orders, then it means that they have agreed to send you. Of course they can always cancel them… so anyways, what was your finish time for the marathon?”
Hooray! A reprieve! We talked running for awhile, which I find one hundred times more interesting than haggling with the Navy. He’s a runner too, so I impressed him by telling him about all of the purchases that I have made that will help me keep up my running program while in Africa. Then I hung up and decided to pack.
I have still decided to pack. It’s almost 90 minutes later. The suitcase is still in the other room, waiting for me to squish mounds of workout clothes and some assorted normal attire into it. I really need to stop rambling. If you’re reading this entry wondering what my great revelation is for today then I will share with you my secret: Humans will do just about anything before they do what they are supposed to do.