Day 212

Here I sit, in my room, with about twenty hours remaining of my convalescing. It no longer hurts to take in a breath and my nose started leaking late last night, so maybe antibotics do work after all. If there were beer here I'd buy my room mate lots for having to put up with this. I just returned from the necessary, wiping my nose on my open palm, and perhaps touching my plugged-up nose made me think of it, even though I can't breathe very well at the moment, it dawned on me that I was going to miss the blossoming of the lilacs this year. It happens with such regularity at home, once a year, if I remember correctly, that we tend not to even think about it. As much as I like them, too may lilacs are annoying. How many times have we driven down a North Dakota highway in May, windows rolled down, good jazz on the radio, cold bottled lemonade in the drink cup, enjoying a, if not the first, warm sunny day of spring. There's hardly a breath of wind. The leaves are as still as the pond is mirrored. The car takes us past a farmstead, built close to the road. As we approach, we notice that whoever had planted the lilac bushes had done so in such a way that there was a pattern to the colors; purple, yellow, and then white, repeated all around the yard. There's not enough of a wind to move the air, so when you pass by that farmyard it's like driving into a wall of honey, with double sugar, which you kept in the fridge, making it extra think. That's too much lilac for me. That same farmyard, on a different day, when the wind is blowing five or ten miles an hour, with just enough oomph to move the bulk of the smell out of the way; that's the smell I'll miss.

Day 210

what? What? WHAT? Why can't I ever just have a simple medical problem? I have an allergic reaction to the smallpox shot. Do I get hives? No; I get pericartitus. I have knee pain. Is it a simple twist which will be better in two weeks? No; I have to get surgery at the end of this deployment. Today, I don't feel all that well. Taking in a deep breath hurts. So I go to sick call. Do I have a simple cold? No; I have pneumonia. I just started 72 hours of rest in my room. Of course I have to wait for the severe pain from that antibotics shot to wear off, or at least subside a bit. The way my luck is running, I think the next time I'll have any chance of luck of winning when I buy a lottery ticket will be 2025. Pardon my rant but WTF, over.

Day 209

It's coming to head here. Imigaine if you will, every stupid person with whom you've ever worked. Every idiot who 'knew more than you' because they were the supervisor or boss. Take all the people who are allowed to stay at their desk through close knit political ties to the system. Now, group all of those people together, promote them by one step, and put them in leadership positions. With very few exeptions, this is how my battalion and brigade personnel are flushing out. Today some of those people tried to throw my boss under the bus. But because he's smarter than any of them, they failed. Not that they didn't try, but we spent most of the day not proving ourselves right, as much as proving them wrong. Personnel are demanding college level writing on sworn statements and sending them back down when there's a misplaced comma. These documents are to be written in the soldiers own words, not theirs. A mucky-muck today told me that we don't need page two of the document, that page one and three is all I needed. I said, no, we needed all three. He said we didn't. I showed him in the reg we needed all three. He told me the regulation was wrong and that he was right. We, the 287th, are causing all of our own problems. This deployment can't end soon enough. The days are long. I have my wedding to plan, my wife to kill, and Guilder to blame for it. Well, I should get some rest. You have nothing if you don't have your health.

Day 207

You know when it's time to go home when you pass by a thermometer hanging on the outside of your office, it reads 94 degrees F, and you say, "Oh, only 94? It feels kinda cool today." Our blood is going to be so thinned out by the time I get home that 60 degrees will freeze my butt. Speaking of my butt, I have thought of a way to make my tour more comfortable, but I don't think there is a way I can actually do it here. If I'd planned ahead and brought it with me, I'd be happier. To make this tour more comfortable, I need injections of botox, in my butt. I was checking it out online, and botox causes pores to close. When the pores are closed the sweat won't come out. When the sweat doesn't come out, my butt won't get sticky. When my butt is no longer sweaty and sticky, my underware won't stick to my butt. Problem solved. Maybe I should go to sick call on Monday and see if they can provide this service to me? The Army is providing most other services to us, maybe they'll also provide this service. Or maybe not. Oh well, at least I tried.

Day 206

This morning I realized that no matter what I think my motivation needs to be to get through this, it all boils down to this; the means do justify the end. I found myself repeating that for several minutes this morning on the way to work. I was on a shuttle bus, from which our driver decided to stop and talk to the driver of another bus. Never mind the fact we all are trying to get to work on time. Never mind the fact that the drivers are here to drive, not to visit. As the rest of us were suggesting that the driver end his conversation and return to his assigned route, a young soldier turned to me and started talking. Now, I'm not going to try to pull a Mark Twain and try to spell the words to give you an idea of the accent. I'm sure you've all heard the accent, or something like it. It wasn't exactly southern. It wasn't exactly illiterate. It wasn't exactly hillbilly. It didn't seem as though he took the short bus to school, back in the day. It was as if he was a quarter step off middle C, if you know what I mean. And he was missing more than one tooth, right in the front. His eyes weren't open all the way, and I think there was a thin line of drool leaking from the right side of his mouth. He spoke really slowly. He said, "People on this bus are getting angry. I'm not an angry person. Until I'm in my truck back home. People don't like to see me coming down the road. They get out of my way." (He then proceeded to speak truck and lost me for a minute.) And then he finished telling me about the paint job. I need out of here. (The means do justify the end; the means do justify the end). All of my bills are paid, I qualify for the new GI Bill, and I found the camper I want. Yes; the means do justify the end, at least this time.

Day 205

With my intermitent internet connection it's difficult to stay on top of the North Dakota flooding. I hope everybody is safe and that everybody's families are safe. Good Luck.

Day 204 - Benchmark 3

It's final. There is no doubt. There can be no question. All facts point to one truth. As of about 1-1/2 hours ago I became debt free. I knew I'd be happy, but I can't describe the overwhelming joy of being debt free. On the day my orders started I sold the house and paid off the mortgage. I used the profit and paid off the car. I spent some cash and bought stuff I needed and more stuff I didn't. Over the course of the deployment I saved up and paid off the bills, one at a time. All money I make from here on out is mine, mine, mine. Oh, don't worry, in my head I've spent almost half of it; new camper (check out the 6.0 at www.livinlite.com); a used small sailboat; a new computer (after a year in the desert this one won't last much longer); a dog. Now I just need to get back to the States and live my life.

Day 203

I finally made it out of Qatar and back into Iraq. I'm safe and sound, or as safe as one can get in a combat zone, in my CHU, waiting for my laundry to dry so I can get to sleep. I tell you, it was an adventure getting out of Qatar. Sunday we tried to leave, only to have our flight cancelled. We should have known that our group was the 'rehearsal' group. Tuesday at 1100 we had our departure briefing and then departed, for the airport. We'd done this part on Monday so we only had to get there once today. We got to the terminal at 1200-ish. Our flight left at 4:30. At about 4:10 we were hearded out to the tarmac to get on the C-130 only to be told that it wasn't our C-130. Back into the holding area. Another rehearsal. Our plane finally arrived and we walked out to the plane, got on, and flew away. Not to Tallil. Oh no, first we had to rehearse some more. Our first stop was Kirkuk, Iraq. Check out it's location on a map some time. Not allowed off of the plane as 6 people got off the plane and about 35 got on. We took off and flew south to Kuwait. This time we got off while they refueled. So, we've had two landing rehearsals and one deplaning rehearsal, so now it must be time to do the show. Back on the plane from Kuwait and the next stop, Tallil. Yes! All of the rehearsals paid off. We've done it. It took me 1-1/2 hours to fly from Tallil to Qatar and it took me 7-1/2 hours to fly back. Too bad I can't get frequent flyer mileage for this. Now that I'm back, 10 days into my 4 day pass, I've been told that there is no way I'm ever leaving here for the rest of the deployment. I had 10 days in Germany and 10 days in Qatar, and I've not been charged a day of leave for any of it. I love that tax-free check. Make sure all of you pay your taxes on time so I keep getting my paycheck.

Day 201

Last night at 9 pm the flight board told me that I was going to leave Qatar today, and like a fool, I believed the board. I got up at 6, did my morning thing, packed, dressed, turned in my bedding, and made it to the outgoing briefing at 0730. The bus left for the airport at about 0800. We got to the airport, de-bussed, and hung around the passengar terminal for about 15 minutes. Then, one of the LNO's, the marine one, started reading off names. I was one of the names he read. All of us whose names were called were told that our flight was cancelled and we had to return to the R&R center. So, we walked back to the bus and got comfortable. 5 minutes later we were told that we'd have to go back through customs and we had to get off of the bus and bring all of our gear. So, back off the bus and back to the terminal. But wait, we'd gone too far. We needed to go back one building and wait there. After about 5 minutes we were told that we didn't need to go through customs and that we needed to get back on the bus. As we were heading for the bus we were told that we in fact needed to go through customs. Rather than continud to be treated as taffy in a government pull, at this point we were all shuttled off to a holding tent where we sat for 15 minutes waiting on word. Turns out, we all had to go back through customs, which meant we had to walk around the customs building, to get to the front, and go through the metal detectors and have all of our stuff run through the x-ray machine. Then, back on the bus and back to here. I'll find out tonight at 9 when and if I have a flight. This is a very formal country; the dress of men and women and the behaviours they expect out of others. The monetary fine is larger for spitting on the sidewalk than it is to get caught driving 100 miles an hour over the posted speed limit. As such, any cursing inside the customs building is grounds for immediate deportation, to a country of their choosing. And since the customs officials are all from Pakistan, who knows where we would have ended up. (Black hole of Calcutta scare you just a little bit?) It was this alone which kept our sojourn through customs the quietest this group has been since our arrival. So, for lunch today I had a rare cheeseburger at Chili's and some ice cold lemonade. Now I'm just killing time until 2100 hours. For those of you keeping score, this is my Day 8, actually the 9th day, in Qatar. Not bad for a 4 day pass.

Day 200

Only 150 days left until our TOA ceremony, and I'm still stuck in Qatar. I am on Day 8 of my 4 day pass. The other day, when we were out in Doha, we made an unscheduled stop after lunch. Our guide said it was going to be a suprise, and it was. We made a right at an intersection and the bus pulled into the center lane and stopped. We looked to our left and there it was. I'm not making this up in any way. If I had only taken a picture as proof, it'd have concrete evidence, but really, how could I make his up? We were looking at a business sign which read, in English, and I guess Arabic, "Taliban Tailors". Not kidding; big as life.

Day 199 - later

Yep, you guessed it, still stuck in Qatar. The other day I took a city tour. For a short time we were at the ancient market of Doha, dating all the way back to at least the 1930's. We had an hour and a half to kill, and after walking around for an hour, not being able to leave for at least another half, I got some Baskin Robbins Ice Cream and sat on a street corner, watching all the ladies in Burkkas walk by. Not something I thought I'd ever do, but when in Doha,...Due to cultural differences, we Americans are all stongly encouraged not to stare at, and certainly not to take photographs of, women in Burkkas. However, with nothing better to do while eating my ice cream, I got to wondering; what do women wear underneath their Burkkas? Are they in designer clothing, or does the Burkka allow otherwise self consicous women to walk around in public in sweat suits while wearing no makeup? Trying not to be too obvious with my staring, I tried to figure out how to tell what was underneath. These things are black as night, so there's no seeing through them. Starting with the shoes doesn't help, as almost all of them wear sandals. But then one particular amorphous shape caught my eye. Unlike most of the Burkka wearers, there was no eye-slit. This woman was wearing a black veil which allowed her to see out, but we couldn't see in. She was about 5 foot 10, very slim, and wearing what looked to me to be high priced high heeled shoes, but what do I know. Ah ha, I thought, some women do dress up. Then as she came around the corner the wind off of the Persian Gulf caught her burkka, billowing open, and allowed me to see that she was in fact wearing blue jeans. I guess that answers my question. I promise there will not be a discussion, at least from me, on what these guys wear under their man dresses. It's not flattering on Dom DeLuise, and trust me, it's not working for these guys, either.

Day 199

Now, I've learned that I'm smart enough to know better than to believe everything I see on the internet, but I checked this out, and it appears to be true. John Madden is finally retiring. All it took was for me to go to Iraq. If I had known that was all it would take, I would have come here many, many years ago. It's not that I'm a fan of football, but it seems wherever I go, there's a NFL game on, be it Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday or Monday. And without fail, there is that grating, overly loud, no sense of an indoor voice, by the fourth period slurring words more than in the first, annoying human being saying things that make my skin crawl. I was listening to a comedian on Sirius radio, and he was poking fun at Madden. Madden apparently said of a football player who lost a contact lens on the field, "Now there's a guy who sees better with his contact's in." First quarter or fourth quarter; you decide. I know I am not alone in this opinion. Many times I'd enter a room to see a group of people watching a game with the sound turned off. The reason given every time; Madden is announcing. Let's just hope he enjoys his retirement enough NOT to want to come back to work. I'll drink to that, but not until the fourth quarter.

Day 198

So, this is how the R&R process works. You arrive in Qatar and that day is assigned as your day zero. Unless of course if you arrive late in the day, say after 6 pm, then that day is a free day and the next day is your day zero. After day zero each day is counted as the next day, as in Day 1, Day 2, and so on. On Day 4, at 9 pm, we have to check the flight schedules for our return back to our post. Yesterday was my day 4, and when the schedule was published, there were no flights, for anybody. So, according to the rules and regs, I have to report back tonight, day 5, at 9 pm, to see whether or not I have a flight. I talked to some people last night at 9 pm who have been here for 8 and 9 and 10 days. It may sound nice, but I am bored to tears. Lots of reading and web surfing, but I'm bored out of my mind. A guy can 'shower' only so many times a day, if you know what I mean. As for our accommodations here, we are housed in large tents, with 96 beds in each tent. My building has 6 tents. The warehouse is kept fairly cold. Since we are on our own schedule, there is almost always somebody sleeping. The main R&R building is nice. I huge warehouse with tons of space, and free wireless in the entire place. They mean well, but I'm bored. I want something to do.

Day 197

Yesterday I partook of a tour of the City of Doha, Qatar, and got lunch out of it, so it wasn't all bad. This is one booming town. I've heard they expect the oil to run out in about 20 years and they're doing all they can to build their modern infrastructure as quickly as possible, and pray for tourists. We were at a mall in the new downtown section, and there were at least 20 skyscrapers under construction. A look across the skline made me think of Doozers, just waiting for the inevitable Fraggles to come along and eat up all of their work. We took 24 people in a 24 person bus, how convinient for us, which luckily was air conditioned. We passed by a very large, by square footage if not by height, palace. Then past a shopping mall based on the Vegas attraction Bellagio. Next to that a really tall tower, still under construction, and a stadium which housed the 2006 Asian Games, seating 50,000 fans. Through the new suburbs, into the old part of town, at least the dirty part of town, and back into the new part of town. A small bling market where I had a hundred new best friends the moment I stepped off of the bus. Gaudy Alley, it shall be named. Then on to the coast for a few pics, then to lunch. Not bad food. A visit to a modern mall, then to an ancient mall, still working, then to a Harley shop and then back here. In all of that traveling, nowhere did I see one bookstore. These people are not illiterate, by any means, but not one bookstore. Perhaps this is Amazon dot com's biggest customer? I signed up for a boat tour today but did not sleep so well last night and decided to sleep in and do some more resting and relaxing. Good choice. Right now I'm waiting for my roll call at 9 pm, in about 5 hours, to see what time I fly back to Iraq. 5 months from today I have my Transfer of Authority Ceremony and then I'm outta here. I don't know if I've ever mentioned it before, but don't ever volunteer to come to the Middle East. It kinda sucks.

Day 195

I am here once again in the R&R center in Qatar. I just signed up for a city tour via air conditioned bus of the great city of Doha, Qatar. It has all of the earmarks of resting and relaxing, and I'm all for that. Not only that, it is scheduled for tomorrow, which gives me more time for my own resting and relaxing.
In more than one posting I have mentioned that I do not really like flying. Now that we have added the 15th follower, I think it is about time for me to tell the rest of the world why I do not like flying. I shall not refer to the 15th follower by name, but if he chooses to argue any points in this post, it is his right to do so. So, there I was, sitting quietly in my room in Grand Forks one sunny summer day, and my room mate, the 15th follower of this blog, approached me and one other fraternity brother and told us if we split the gas money that he'd take us flying. Having nothing better to do on a sunny summer day, we agreed and drove to the airport. Upon arriving at the flight line on this sunny summer day, our pilot brother was told by the operations staff that he had not been flying in a while and would have to first have an instructor take him on a flight check to ensure he didn't kill his passengers, or himself, or do damage to a UND plane. Then the instructor looked at us and asked if we wanted to ride along? Sensing a moments hesitation he quickly added, "It'll be fun." I've since learned that when I pilot says "It'll be fun", it's like a doctor pulling on a rubber glove, opening a tube of jelly, tellling the patient to drop his drawers and lean over the exam table, stating, "You'll feel a little pressure." Yeah, this was just like that. However, at this time in my life, as I was so much younger and innocent (stupid), I took the instructor at his word. So much like Hansel, I climbed into the rear of the plane, just behind the drivers seat. We taxied, we took off, we climbed, we flew. Now, remember, up until this point I had never had a problem flying. Small bumps and large turbulance never bothered me. I do get motion sickness on a swing-set, but have never once gotten violently ill, before, during, or after this instance. So, there we were, flying. It was a small aircraft, with seating for four, in the same way which a Yugo has seating for four. I don't know if I remember the entire flight check, but I do remember we did banks, left and right, at 30 degrees, and I had no problem. We then did banks, left and right, at 45 degrees, and still I had no problem. I remember trying to lift my arms and how heavy they felt. I remember looking out the window, straight down at the ground, and how cool it looked. I still felt no ill will towards anybody or anything that day, but it was early. After we straightened out we buzzed an empty field. I kind of felt like a WWI pilot strafing a Hun fighting position. And still, at this point, my outlook on life was kindly and open-minded. It almost felt as if angels were smiling on me. After the field buzzing, we once again climbed into the sunny summer day. We kind of had no choice, being as close to the ground as we were just a few minutes ago. Still climbing, and after gaining some altitude the instructor leaned forward, and with sadistic forethought and callous purpose, he pushed a red knob all of the way in. At first I was not sure what had happened. It got real quiet all of a sudden. Had the instructor activated 'whisper-mode' that I had seen in the movie "Blue Thunder"? I thought not. Had the instructor instead added another muffler to the engine to quiet it's overly loud roar? This seemed as unlikely as the 'whisper-mode'. In a flash it became clear to me that what had happened. The damned fool had shut the engine off! How did I finally become aware of this? It occured to me only when we began falling out of the sky; backwards. No warning! No throttling back! The moron had just leaned up and shut the engine off! Now, when the engine in my vehicle stops, I roll, gently, to the side of the road, where, out of the way, I call for help. Not so much in a plane. There's no such thing as 'gentle' in a plane without a working engine. The ground is not in contact with the wheels, but I was afraid it would be, and all too soon. All of this pulsed through my brain in a few moments, just about as long as it took us to stop falling backwards. This is when the full effect of gravity pulled upon the entire aircraft. The engine, being at the front, and being heavier than the tail, began to tip towards the earth, making the rest of the plane follow her. One minute I'm enjoying a pleasant sunny summer day with several of my fraternity brothers, and the next I'm in some sort of Grimm nightmare. Surely this instructor is a spy for NDSU. Why would a true employee of UND do this to fellow matriculators? And still we're falling. Forward now, where I can see through the windshield, the empty field rushing up at us. It's as if the dirty Hun had shot us down. At this point my brain ceased to function in a rational manner. My body began a rapid shut down for self-preservation. In a vain attempt to draw all body heat to the core, I became very cold, all over, yet started to sweat, also all over. My hands and my feet became ice cold, yet the perspiration on my hands left them clammy and slick. I was told by the others that I had become white as a ghost. No small feat for a man who is already so pale he almost glows in the dark. Just about the time I lost all feeling in my hands, my pilot brother had somehow, through a miracle of science no doubt, managed to re-start the engine. Not that my body, nor my brain, seemed to notice. We were, after all, still in the air, and pointed straight down. It was at this point that two or three of the neurons still active in my brain noticed that my hands had quit working. They would neither open nor close. They were, in fact, stuck half-way in-between. Imagine, if you will, the plastic spaghetti scoop with the small bowl with the 5 tongs. Those were the shape of both of my hands. With the one engine re-started the flight check was apparently at an end. After what seemed like two weeks later, we landed, taxied over to the operations building, and the plane shut off again, this time in the correct fashion, not while in the air. The two people in the front seats got out first, as there is only a single door on each side, and then those of us in the back deplaned. Well, one of us did, however I didn't have as much luck. My hands still wouldn't work. I had to maneuver using my forearms and elbows, and when I first tried to move, I found my legs did not want to cooperate. It appeared as though they wanted to remain in the aircraft. I supposed being below the sight-line of the window they were more unaware of the danger in which had found ourself than did the rest of my body. So, without the use of either my hands or my feet, using elbows and knees, I managed to extricate myself from the flying deathtrap which I had been tricked into entering. (Had the oven been in full view when I walked up to the aircraft I could passed on by and enjoyed the rest of my sunny summer day.) I did my best to stand up as straight as I could, enjoying the shade and comfort of the wing, not caring a whit how sunny the summer day used to be. The other three lucky passengers, none of whom appeared to be Gretel, who seemed not at all affected by the near death experience we all surely must have shared, stopped and stared at me for a few moments, each with the same look; he's gonna woof! Did I woof?! Nay!! Not before that fateful day nor since have I tossed my cookies while in flight or because of it. Once the other three were assured that I was not going to make a mess on the asphalt, either from my front or my rear, the instructor left for his office, and I heard somebody say, "Now that the flight check is over, let's get back in and have that ride." I can only think that it was my lack of neuron's firing on all cylinders that kept the laser beams from shooting out of my eyes and silencing, forever, the voice box of the offending speaker. In all honesty, I do not remember my response, however I am sure it contained language which should not be contained in a public blog. Due to my delicate nature the three of us went back to town, where I never again chose to venture that close to the flying oven. That was the only aircraft flight I ever took as a UND student, and ever since I have hated flying. I will say that flying more makes me hate it less. Since the 1st of October, I have flown; Bismarck to the Cities, to Seattle, to Sacramento, to Seattle, to Ireland, to Kuwait, to Tallil, to Basra, to Germany, to Kuwait, to Tallil, to Qatar. The only thing which really bothers me is the falling feeling. All other motion is more or less acceptable to me, but that falling feeling. Yikes! And how many of you have ever seen me walk around on a plane. Oh, I'll get up to let somebody in my row gain access to the aisle, but then I'm right back down. Here endeth the confession.
And that is why I do not like flying. And if the 15th follower wishes to make comment and/or corrections, or add a defense to this posting, he is more than welcome.
Some time I'll tell the story of a rough landing in Williston where my 'friend' said to me "We'll be ok, as long as the wings don't fall off". Oh, I guess I just told that one. Lots of fun to hear in a 12 seat prop plane, where the 12th seat is the toilet. It did my body good. Thanks for nothing, Don. :)

Day 194

Here I sit, in the Rest and Relaxation (R&R) Center in Camp As Sayliyah, just outside of Doha, Qatar. I've been in the Middle East now since the 17th of November, and yesterday, the day of my arrival, I heard the Call to Prayer for the first time. We have two mosques on Camp Adder, but one suffered a little bit of damage back in 2003 when it was struck, quite by accident I'm sure, by explosive ordinance from the American military. The other has stood empty since my arrival there. We sleep in a warehouse. There are several GP Large tents set up, with bunk beds and lockers. Showers, toilets and laundry are all in the warehouse, and lots of all. I'm currently in the R&R main building, with free internet, charging my iTouch. We are authorized to consume no more than three beers a day, from one of three establishments, all to my immediate right. On my left is a bowling alley. Just ahead of me is a large area with a stage. Further in the building, there is room with free Wii and X-Box games, consols, and TV, and in the back, there is a movie room. The entire area is 'shoe-free', and very soft flooring. Further into the building, there's a coffee shop and a computer room, for those without laptops. On the left side, just outside of the briefing room is movie lounge with oversized, extra-stuffed leather reclining chairs which face the large-screen TV, which is always playing a movie. The PX is ok and there are a few local vendors hawking their wares. Some stuff isn't too tacky. We wear civilian clothes, do our own thing, and just basically relax. What a good name for R&R.

Day 192

It's coming up on 8 pm here, and in an hour I'll be turning in my weapon and then getting on a plane to enjoy a 4-day pass of R&R in lovely Qatar. More later, from the 6th country I'll have visited this deployment.

Day 190

Only 160 days until we're officially done! At noon today I had a bit of a suprise; I am going on a 4-day pass the day after tomorrow. It's a long story and one best told not to an anomyous audience, or told without beer in hand. If the weather holds, and if there is a seat on the plane, I could be in Qatar in a few days. Not much to do, and I won't have doctor appointments to make. Should be relaxing. At least it's not here. It's at a MWR, Morale, Welfare and Recreation, Center and there are computers to use, so I'll stay in touch. I've been told there's a Chili's Resturant, a movie theater, shops, and tours. At least it's not here. This place lost its charm a few months back. I'm ready to go home now.

Day 190

Shortly after I woke up, the Giant Voice announced that we were in a lightening warning until further notice. It took me a few moments to realize that we all carry lightning rods over our shoulders. Good notice. Not much we can do about it though, except to try and stay low, in an area as flat as the Red River Valley, and no trees. Good luck with that. We didn't have too much luck with me working the new 2 to 10 shift, so starting today I will work a 11 to 7 shift. We'll give it a few days and see how it goes. At least I don't have to get up early.

Day 188

This is the first week I should be on my new work schedule, so I'll be writing more during my day than my night. I had yesterday off; second day off since the 13th of November. The weather here is nice. It's in the 70's with a slight breeze. I've got the window and door open to air the place out a bit. I'm actually thinking about washing my sheets. I haven't washed them since we moved in here, on the 30th of November. Yeah; it's time. I'm re-reading Stephen King's "It". I'd forgotten what a fun and scary book it is. I know this isn't much, but last week was a blur of double shifts and the weekend was a blur of unconsicousness in my bunk so there's not much to report.