For those who are just catching up, it's called a PCS - Permanent Change of Station. It's when the military tells you to move your ass from one post to another.
And I'm in the middle of it. Yeesh. I think I've had more fun laminating my testicles.
(The above is just a figure of speech. My testicles are not now, nor have ever been, laminated.)
So anyways, this is just a post to let you all know not to expect too much from me in the coming days. Any internet access will be infrequent at best, and I'm going to be so damn busy that my head might just come unscrewed.
Oh, and to top it all off, just the cherry on the top of my sundae, the unit I'm going to exists on paper only.
Yep, that's right, it's a new unit! They're still getting people in! So where as I may have been able to call up the unit and talk with an actual human if I were going to an existing unit, I'm stuck in limbo with this one. I've been able to talk to the battalion, but the company has been incommunicado. Boy oh boy, I don't know who's getting fucked worse, the unit or me. Yeah, they're not exactly being all that helpful right now, and just getting simple answers out of people requires an effort not unlike pulling out teeth, but I'm getting put into a slot in which I have no actual experience. I've got the school, but no hands on time. And now I have to build a unit's motorpool from scratch.
Talk about a steep learning curve.....
So, if you don't hear from me for a while, it's because I'm screaming while ripping out what little hair I have left and banging my head against a brick wall in a futile effort to make the bad men stop.
See ya in a couple of weeks.