Over and Out

At 8:15 this morning, I put on my uniform in preparation for one final appointment at 9:00. In too much of a hurry to observe the occasion, I made a mental note to savor the experience of removing it for the last time later. I planned on balling it up instead of carefully folding it, and stuffing it in a garbage bag already three-quarters full of other military-issue items. After six years in this same stiff, starched, uncomfortable costume, I felt I’d earned the right to dispose of it any way I saw fit. I’ve already planned to ask for a firefighter-friend’s help in burning everything come June 3rd.

My last appointment was over quickly, so I made a few stops on the way home before my lunch date. As I sat in front of the tanning salon, I remembered what a pain it was to remove combat boots, blousing straps, web belt, jacket, shirt and pants, then put them back on afterward. Not wanting to waste half an hour changing at home, I quickly shimmied out of the boots, jacket and pants right there in the driver’s seat and slipped into flip-flops and shorts, keeping an eye on the parking lot around me lest someone stop to enjoy the show. I finished my errands comfortably with no one the wiser. It was only later, as I pulled the crumpled clothing out of the backseat of my car that I realized I’d forgotten to mark the occasion with any ceremony or reflection.

Maybe I’ll save all that for the bonfire.

I am so relieved to be done with not only the uniform, but the regulations, the restrictions and the never ending list of rules it seems everyone except me can break without repercussions. I’m over the hypocrisy, the misplaced superiority complexes, the rampant authoritarianism, the mediocrity, the apathy and the politics inherent to an organization mired in outdated traditions and the mistaken belief that time served equals experience gained. I am ready to move back into a world where the almighty dollar is the only golden rule. As much as I loathe the blatant greed and naked ambition of its inhabitants, at least I know what it takes to get things done; put dollar signs to your intentions and no one stands in your way.

I don’t regret it all. There were a few years in which I felt I served a purpose and my job made some difference, but I estimate those years at well below half the six I served. I changed in many ways; some good, some bad. I discovered ambition, discipline, leadership qualities and abilities I probably would have never developed otherwise, but I also got a crash course in how blind, deaf, dumb and apathetic people become when their job security doesn’t depend on their performance. I came here looking for something more than the rat race, and while I was privileged to work with a few people of an admirably high caliber, I also found a whole different race of rats.

The last two years have been especially difficult, trapped in a place where no one cares, and worse yet, no one cares that no one cares. Laziness, pettiness, incompetence and plain old stupidity flourish here in the Texas dust where nothing else will grow. The ‘leadership’ is as uninspired and corrupt as that of my last unit was rational and informed. My coworkers introduced me to a level of infantile slander, crude gossip and pointless cheap shots I haven’t seen since seventh grade gym class. The skills and abilities honed in the breakneck pace of a busy unit languished and grew dull as I was constantly berated for not doing work that didn’t exist. The irony would have been amusing had my surroundings not been so downright depressing.

This is not to say these last two years were completely wasted. I cannot help but be grateful for the personal rewards that stand out against my dismal professional circumstances like diamonds on a dirty floor. The friendships I’ve gained, the places I’ve gone, and the progress I’ve made in my continuing quest for understanding and purpose tempered the worst of my experiences. I owe my sanity to the people who stood by me as I sometimes succumbed to the negativity by which I was surrounded. Few though they may be, they are valuable and cherished for that reason. As anxious as I am to see this god-forsaken hole in my rearview for the last time, I don’t look forward to leaving Katelyn, Heather, Trish, Ali, Brendan, Andrew, the Jasons and Nate-Nate, as well as a half a dozen others who never bought into the bullshit and always made me smile.

If their friendship is all I take with me, I’ll consider it time well spent.

Because I post here, I don’t really have anything to post here. I might try someday anyway. . I don’t accept notes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t comment.