the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

Once again, I've managed to turn a cush job into a workaholic's dream. How, you may ask? Mad skilz, baby. 

OKOKOK. The last wasn't a cush job so much as a "cush" job. Vive la difference! All hail the power of punctuation. 

I wasn't even on the International Day Planning Committee. I came in through a back door when a couple of my (male) friends said they were leaving work early to go to the Kemeraltı to get some teeshirt prices and some ideas for what we will order, etc. I figured a couple of things: I could stand something useful to do this afternoon AND I have no doubt they'd benefit from having a woman along. So I went. 

We checked out two or three possible contractors to do the work, and left knowing we needed to determine our exact needs first. The next week, one of those friends went on a month's leave to the States, and the next week, the other went TDY to Latina, Italy. Suddenly, I was in charge of getting the teeshirts designed and ordered, etc. Nice. 

So I took that ball and ran with it, of course. I asked for design suggestions from the troops, put the submitted suggestions up for consideration before the American contingent one morning, then moderated our way to an agreement on how we'd have the shirts made. Herding cats is easier; with cats, all you need is food. Or good catboys....

Then, the president of the committee went out on unexpected sick leave for two weeks, my friend (Damon) who had been TDY developed rather excruciating back problems*, leaving me as the acting president. As a squid friend told me when I realized I was suddenly in the position: "You know what Navy means, right? Never Again Volunteer Yourself." 

* Prompting our division head (German) to comment, "You break your ankle. Denzil twists his ankle. Kaz twists his ankle. You get back problems. Damon gets back problems. What is it with you Americans?" ME: "Bad diets, sir."

And so it was that I found myself running the meetings, ensuring everything was thought of and done, and briefing the general on our progress on International Day, which is a HUGE deal. Huge. 

So. Here I was with this new responsibility but going to physical therapy three times a week for mine ankle. This is a physical therapist who treats athletes, which makes him very different in his approach from the average Turkish doctor. The average Turkish doctor, see--and this is from one of our Independent Duty Medical Technicians, who has served in Incirlik twice and Izmir once before now--expects people to stop exercising early in life, and if they have pain, to just live with it. This explains my amazing lack of treatment and pain meds when I twisted/broke my ankle and jacked up my back a few months later. They don't have narcotics here, from all I can tell. They "prescribe" anti-inflammatories, but that's it. Otherwise, they're like Mother Theresa: pain is part of life. Get used to it. 

Anyhow...this clinic is different in that it does everything it can to help you regain your strength and dexterity and overcome the pain. Then they release you. But they're serious. My appointments routinely take 2.5 to 3 hours each. 

On top of this, I had to prepare a step-by-step presentation (and present it, because that's what you do with presentations) to my division to explain how dead easy their part in the file archiving work will be. I made it so very easy, even the die-hards complemented me on how kindergarden simple I'd made it.*

* My metaphor.

There's also this Cyber Operations Fundamentals Course that I'm taking, half of which I must take over SIPRNet (Secure Internet Protocol Routed Network), which isn't in abundance at NATO, since we tend to use NATO Secret and NATO Unclassified systems.*

* Here's a NATO annoyance most people will never quite grasp, but which is very real. In NATO, most of our work is done on NATO Secret, which is its own network (of course); some is done on NATO Unclassified, which as limited access to the world at large; but as American servicemen, we have to also have access to NIPRNet (Nonsecure etc) in order to get all our regular emails, for which we must walk about a quarter mile to another building and log on to fetch. Most don't even have SIPRNet accounts, and they are not in abundance. What is classified for the US is not necessarily cleared for release to NATO, etc. Hence all the different systems. I have too many email accounts. 

Then there was a citation I wrote for another departing Senior Master Sergeant, so she could get a medal. Stuff like that. 

And, this morning, I shot the 425th Change of Command ceremony downtown. I shot everybody, everything. Total carnage (but some really good photos). But that sucked up my morning, too....

You might see how time got away from me. 

So today, on the shuttle from the base back into town, I was chatting with a very sharp, up-and-coming NCO who I consider a friend. He's been working with me on the International Day Planning Committee (and in my opinion, doing the lion's work). He asked if I had put myself in for Field Grade Officer of the Quarter. I said no. I didn't have time. I did, however, get a quarterly award package submitted for two of my troops: company grade officer and senior non-commissioned officer, so I was happy. 

There was a pause, and he said, "X* and I talk about the officers here. We have a list of five of the best officers. Gen Jodice isn't in the running because he's truly above and beyond.** But the list is about officers we feel are the best leaders, who are REAL, who are approachable, who take care of their peop0le, and who do what they say. You're on that list."

* Because I'm not giving any names here.

** And he totally is.

I said Thank You. Very Much. 

One private compliment like that is worth 10 Field Grade Officer of the Quarter awards to me. 

d