Roger that, Renegade. Funny how the anger builds up until one thing happens, major or minor, and you just cannot take it. I work in IT. I am so tired of idiots who do not know how to speak or write English. It would be one thing to be an interpreter and make some mistakes, but they know those mistakes cost lives and go over their shit before they submit. No, not here. It just comes out and just comes out like "Please do the needful" or "Kindly...." WTF is this crap with "Kindly?" One of my favorites is "PFA." Do they think that's cool somehow? At least in the military we had some good acronyms. FUBAR, The old SNAFU. TDY. DEROS (Happy news.) REMF.
PFA? Just say "Attached...."
And then to go on and screw things up. Really mess it up so it takes time and money to fix. GDammit. You show them how to fix it and wait 3 days until you follow up and nothing's been done? Lazy. Just plain lazy.
And what happens to me? The anger turns to depression and then the nightmares. God lately they have been really good. Right in that twilight zone before you finally can doze off. And the images just flow like a tape that can't stop. And you sweat and fight getting up but you have too.
And of course, it's too damn hot to work out. Which is what I need. I want a 5 mile run before lunch, just like we did when...well, when....
But you let it go and it gets better. Just let it go. If things are f*cked up, then they are f*cked up.
It's sappy but true. The old St. Christopher's program on Sunday. My Dad watched it because I know it helped him with his "battle fatigue" which he never admitted to. But he was the first to diagnose me. One look at my face. You've got battle fatigue. And then the priest appears on the black and white TV we had: "Better to light one candle than to curse the darkness."
Yeah. Let it go. They used to say "Don't mean nuthin'." It really doesn't. It's imperfect. The drill sergeant needed to make me think I was perfect and the world needed to straighten out.
But you just can't do it all. Just no more nightmares. NO more hearing those military grade blades go Whoop, whoop, whoop. Sleep would be a real blessing for me now. ("There's always one more thing to do.")
Rant over.
Out. Damn my leg hurts too.
PFA? Just say "Attached...."
And then to go on and screw things up. Really mess it up so it takes time and money to fix. GDammit. You show them how to fix it and wait 3 days until you follow up and nothing's been done? Lazy. Just plain lazy.
And what happens to me? The anger turns to depression and then the nightmares. God lately they have been really good. Right in that twilight zone before you finally can doze off. And the images just flow like a tape that can't stop. And you sweat and fight getting up but you have too.
And of course, it's too damn hot to work out. Which is what I need. I want a 5 mile run before lunch, just like we did when...well, when....
But you let it go and it gets better. Just let it go. If things are f*cked up, then they are f*cked up.
It's sappy but true. The old St. Christopher's program on Sunday. My Dad watched it because I know it helped him with his "battle fatigue" which he never admitted to. But he was the first to diagnose me. One look at my face. You've got battle fatigue. And then the priest appears on the black and white TV we had: "Better to light one candle than to curse the darkness."
Yeah. Let it go. They used to say "Don't mean nuthin'." It really doesn't. It's imperfect. The drill sergeant needed to make me think I was perfect and the world needed to straighten out.
But you just can't do it all. Just no more nightmares. NO more hearing those military grade blades go Whoop, whoop, whoop. Sleep would be a real blessing for me now. ("There's always one more thing to do.")
Rant over.
Out. Damn my leg hurts too.