So I typed this up last night as something of a status report/sendoff:

Well, the ship is back in port and my Anthrocon leave expires tomorrow. I know ten or twelve days is a pathetically short timespan to develop nostalgia over, but when I put on my uniform this morning, it felt very different. I'm going to miss wearing it. Never before did I think I'd say that. I spent so many long, agonizing days praying in earnest to get out of it. Yet now I find there is a sense of strength, duty and focus that comes with wearing it. It's something I'd never fully grasped until now. It makes me glad that I have such a... spirited recollection of my various trials during my service, scribed indelibly in my personal logs. I've always said that I didn't re-enlist because you can't take back a re-enlistment if you decide that it was a mistake. If you don't re-up, you can always change your mind later and extend your contract. "Later" extends all the way up to your End Of Active Service date, not 'till August for me. Hell, even beyond that. I've bought myself into two years of Inactive Ready Reserves with a bit of fine print I didn't look over too carefully. Heh, without this very striking reminder of all the bullets in the 'Con' column, suddenly encountering this sense of attachment to the uniform that I wear and the job that I do, facing the uncertainty of my future without the structure and support of the service, realizing my own lack of motivation and direction as the framework that I've built my life on thus far breaks loose all around me... well it might just be enough to give a guy like me cold feet about this decision.

I had decided to go in today because for a long time, the Captain's policy was that we'd get a three-day weekend following pull-in. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to do my checkout stuff on Friday if that was a day off. That is now no longer the way things are, it seems. Couldn't determine the source of the policy change in the time I had. I'm guessing we fucked up something to do with drugs and alcohol, or women, or some combination thereof, like usual. I thought I might make the most of my time regardless. Maybe check my e-mail one last time? No. IT removed my network access. Such a shame considering that I brought a disc to burn because my ship's account had a number of things I wanted to save. I suppose it might be nice to check on the status of some of the work that I left behind in such haste two weeks ago, the responsibilities and duties I turned over? No. My Propulsion Plant Network access is also revoked. Perhaps I could say goodbye to a few old friends? No. They're all hard at work in areas that I've lost my clearance for, or exposure zones that I find myself lacking the dosimetry for. Could I get started on my checkout process? No. Personnel was closed, so the necessary paperwork was locked up out of reach. ... maybe just hang around for a few hours waiting for them to open? No. They would be closed up until, and all through the General Quarters drill that was scheduled for this afternoon. I'd have no part in the drill of course. My battlestation has been reassigned as well. I simply wouldn't be permitted to leave the ship while the drill was in progress. I've been erased and replaced across the board. I'm really not a part of this ship anymore. Well, so it seems they really can function without me. Good on ya, guys.

So I accomplished absolutely nothing with the time I spent braving the unbearable heat to make it into work on a day when I had no obligation to do so and I had to leave the ship quickly lest I risk becoming trapped there for as long as the drill took. I can't think of a better sendoff than I day where I put in a little extra effort and accomplished absolutely nothing in so doing. That's basically how my tour went as well. Well, I suppose I did manage one thing. I learned that the muster time had changed in the morning. A valuable piece of intelligence, to be sure. As apropos as missing morning quarters on my last day would be, I really want to go to quarters that one last time. There are people I want to speak to before I go and that muster might be my only chance. Perhaps I'll even have something of a sendoff address if I can think of something befitting the occasion in the interim. Thanks to the dismal failure of today's venture I'll have my hands full cramming the whole checkout process into a single day. I'm not sure it can be done. But then that's a proper sendoff as well I suppose. Throwing something potentially impossible that no one else in my division has ever attempted before at me and telling me to have it done by the end of the day. Hah! It'll be just another day at the office! Six impossible things before breakfast. I don't just believe them, I make them happen!

We, the unwilling
led by the unknowing
are doing the impossible
for the ungrateful.

We have done so much
for so long, with so little,
we are now qualified to do anything
with nothing.

― Konstantin Josef Jireček


I am an engineer. As such my vocabulary contains quite a stunning variety of words.

"Impossible" is not among them.

---

And of course I went back in and tried to checkout again today. Only to find that yesterday's General Quarters drill was to be followed up today by General Quarters II: General Quarters Harder. I just barely escaped getting trapped on the ship all day by using my new First Class powers. Don't know if I'll be able to get back aboard today to actually accomplish anything thanks to the ceremony scheduled this afternoon. Looks like I get another weekend in the uniform. Knowing the Navy, Monday will be General Quarters III: Never Die Again Tomorrow Forever.

Oh, Navy... clearly your feelings for me run deep. Deeper than I ever imagined. But if you love something, you have to let it go.