"...I'm gonna tell you somethin' right now. While you're out there playing patty cake with your friend Pedro, your Uncle Rico is makin' 120 bucks..."
A day or two after my 17th birthday my father and I went to the National Guard recruiter and I signed up for the National Guard. I was a junior in high school, but there were no real wars back then. There are a number of reasons I went into the National Guard, but that is not the point of this post. So I won’t delve into all of that, as there are other more pressing things I must relate. I can ensure you I did this with no coercion by anyone including my father. The idea, in fact, was my own.
I think back to basic training and infantry training, without delving deep into the recesses of my mind, I recall six events. I remember the first day of Rifle marksmanship and qualifying with the M-16, I recall getting my hair shaved and being yanked off the bus when I got to my training unit, I remember learning how to navigate a mine field, I recall my first lap dance, but none of that has anything to do with this…
I also remember what I used to say every morning when the drill sergeants woke us up for first call (which is your only call otherwise your ass was grass). I would wake up and say “I fucking hate this shit.” But I would make my bunk and brush my teeth, get my PT stuff on and get out to formation. Everyday I would do this, even on Sundays. Sundays weren’t so bad because there was church, and most of the day we were allowed to do wash and shine boots and things of that nature. But every morning was the same. At 0430 in the morning I was up doing calisthenics and running, then showers and breakfast. But the main thing was I was up at 0430 each morning and I fucking hated it. I was always tired and I was always sore, be it from shin splints or just sore muscles. But I was miserable and basic training at Sand Hill was a sorry ass place to be in the middle of July.
The bright spot of the whole ordeal was that I would wake up each morning and say, “I fucking hate this shit….” But I would take a day off my mental calendar and know exactly how many days I had left till I was done. The training I initially went through was 16 weeks, so basically four months. Relatively, that is no time at all, but to a 17 year old kid, four months was forever… except that it was only four months and I would come home and go back to school. There was an end, and I knew how far that tunnel reached and how long I would have to get done with all of this. That is unless I got hurt, or screwed something up and failed and was recycled. But that was not going to happen. I remember on my last twelve mile road march I had shin splints and I was required to complete this road march no matter what or I would be recycled till my legs had healed and then I would have to jump back in with another company of recruits.
I was having none of that, I was going back home on time, without any issues even if I had to hobble home. I walked that twelve miles and I was in pain the entire time, but I kept going, and I refused to give up and I maintained pace with my fellow soldiers, and I recall my drill sergeant yelling at me not to give up, and that I could sit on my ass when we got through and I could take care of that “pansy shit” when we were done. I recall seeing the end of the course coming down the hill and towards our barracks. And we broke into a slow run or what we called a “shuffle” moving towards our barracks and at each step I could feel pain shooting up my shins through my body. Each time my feet hit the ground shards of pain hit me, but it was there, we were less than half a mile away. Before I knew it we had finished. All that was left was a couple of days of bullshit training and prepping for graduation. I soaked my swollen shins for a good part of the morning and drank lots of water. But I would be done with this shit. I was done with the fucking road march and would be done with my four months of training. The end was finite and was coming to an end. There was no stopping it, I would soon be back home in my room, and would go back to school several weeks later to be a senior. But I was done with my Army training for the moment and I felt good.
I came in tonight, after what I feel was a disappointing day. I did not sleep well. I took a heavy dosage of my meds today to get to sleep because I knew otherwise I would toss and turn waiting for that phone call. I am not pessimistic by nature, but I am becoming a pessimist I think, and I do not like it. Not one bit. I did wake up earlier than I wanted or expected, but I could not go back to sleep. The first time I woke up, I was able to get back to sleep. I was still a bit dizzy and out of sorts. By the time 5PM rolled around I was unable to get back to a good sleep. I think I finally got up around 5:45, with some on and off dozing. But I did not sleep well. As soon as I woke up the first time, I went down stairs and listened to my voice mails, all five of them. It was funny, I do not get many voice mails, but today I had a number of them and with anticipation I listened to each. Still nothing about a job, nothing about a couple of calls I am expecting. I put my phone down in disappointment and went back to bed for another forty-five minutes.
You know I have a job that has been offered to me… I have a rate and I know what I will be doing etc… but I do not have a start date nor do I know when I will get a start date. Then there is this other job… You see, I am not a patient person. I like things done in a certain way and I like them to be done quickly and efficiently. This is how the world ought to work… But the world does not work like that, and I think it never has worked quickly and efficiently. So I was supposed to get an answer today about this one job; I know it is between someone else and me, and there is a possibility we both could be asked to work for this company but then again, if we cannot both be hired, then they have to choose between the senior person (me) or the junior person (this other guy). So what really sucks about this situation is, do they want they want the junior guy and pay him less or get the senior guy and pay the premium. It’s a toss up…
I saw a job I had applied for a few months ago of which I went through several extensive interviews. The job was put back out on the job boards this evening. I wasn’t disappointed because I expected that, but the simple fact no one even called to tell me they were definitely reclassifying the position and that I was not going to be hired is bullshit. This has happened over and over again, they leave you in limbo never to be heard from again.
So even though I have two good potential things happening, I am still in this tunnel with no end in sight. I could be called at any minute on any day but I do not know when and it is driving me crazy. What can I do? Well at this point it is time to get some more interviews in the pipeline. I am in such a competitive field and at my level people want such specific things. And I swear the difference in getting a job offer or not could be something as minute as what color shirt I happen to be wearing when I interview. I mean you never know what people want and you have to keep working each interview. And it is a sales job what I am doing, the more “no’s” I get the closer I am to a yes, but the whole system sucks ass and I am still stuck in this tunnel where the life is sucked out of me more and more each day. And each day I think more times than I did the day before about just walking away from this place. But I know by doing so I would do more harm to my family and me than I would to those who I left and I would suffer much more than this place.
So I continue to go forward and trying to keep things positive. And yes I know, I am being a whiny-ass bitch again. Yeah that sucks and I am acting like a real pussy, but it is only temporary.
I think back to basic training and infantry training, without delving deep into the recesses of my mind, I recall six events. I remember the first day of Rifle marksmanship and qualifying with the M-16, I recall getting my hair shaved and being yanked off the bus when I got to my training unit, I remember learning how to navigate a mine field, I recall my first lap dance, but none of that has anything to do with this…
I also remember what I used to say every morning when the drill sergeants woke us up for first call (which is your only call otherwise your ass was grass). I would wake up and say “I fucking hate this shit.” But I would make my bunk and brush my teeth, get my PT stuff on and get out to formation. Everyday I would do this, even on Sundays. Sundays weren’t so bad because there was church, and most of the day we were allowed to do wash and shine boots and things of that nature. But every morning was the same. At 0430 in the morning I was up doing calisthenics and running, then showers and breakfast. But the main thing was I was up at 0430 each morning and I fucking hated it. I was always tired and I was always sore, be it from shin splints or just sore muscles. But I was miserable and basic training at Sand Hill was a sorry ass place to be in the middle of July.
The bright spot of the whole ordeal was that I would wake up each morning and say, “I fucking hate this shit….” But I would take a day off my mental calendar and know exactly how many days I had left till I was done. The training I initially went through was 16 weeks, so basically four months. Relatively, that is no time at all, but to a 17 year old kid, four months was forever… except that it was only four months and I would come home and go back to school. There was an end, and I knew how far that tunnel reached and how long I would have to get done with all of this. That is unless I got hurt, or screwed something up and failed and was recycled. But that was not going to happen. I remember on my last twelve mile road march I had shin splints and I was required to complete this road march no matter what or I would be recycled till my legs had healed and then I would have to jump back in with another company of recruits.
I was having none of that, I was going back home on time, without any issues even if I had to hobble home. I walked that twelve miles and I was in pain the entire time, but I kept going, and I refused to give up and I maintained pace with my fellow soldiers, and I recall my drill sergeant yelling at me not to give up, and that I could sit on my ass when we got through and I could take care of that “pansy shit” when we were done. I recall seeing the end of the course coming down the hill and towards our barracks. And we broke into a slow run or what we called a “shuffle” moving towards our barracks and at each step I could feel pain shooting up my shins through my body. Each time my feet hit the ground shards of pain hit me, but it was there, we were less than half a mile away. Before I knew it we had finished. All that was left was a couple of days of bullshit training and prepping for graduation. I soaked my swollen shins for a good part of the morning and drank lots of water. But I would be done with this shit. I was done with the fucking road march and would be done with my four months of training. The end was finite and was coming to an end. There was no stopping it, I would soon be back home in my room, and would go back to school several weeks later to be a senior. But I was done with my Army training for the moment and I felt good.
I came in tonight, after what I feel was a disappointing day. I did not sleep well. I took a heavy dosage of my meds today to get to sleep because I knew otherwise I would toss and turn waiting for that phone call. I am not pessimistic by nature, but I am becoming a pessimist I think, and I do not like it. Not one bit. I did wake up earlier than I wanted or expected, but I could not go back to sleep. The first time I woke up, I was able to get back to sleep. I was still a bit dizzy and out of sorts. By the time 5PM rolled around I was unable to get back to a good sleep. I think I finally got up around 5:45, with some on and off dozing. But I did not sleep well. As soon as I woke up the first time, I went down stairs and listened to my voice mails, all five of them. It was funny, I do not get many voice mails, but today I had a number of them and with anticipation I listened to each. Still nothing about a job, nothing about a couple of calls I am expecting. I put my phone down in disappointment and went back to bed for another forty-five minutes.
You know I have a job that has been offered to me… I have a rate and I know what I will be doing etc… but I do not have a start date nor do I know when I will get a start date. Then there is this other job… You see, I am not a patient person. I like things done in a certain way and I like them to be done quickly and efficiently. This is how the world ought to work… But the world does not work like that, and I think it never has worked quickly and efficiently. So I was supposed to get an answer today about this one job; I know it is between someone else and me, and there is a possibility we both could be asked to work for this company but then again, if we cannot both be hired, then they have to choose between the senior person (me) or the junior person (this other guy). So what really sucks about this situation is, do they want they want the junior guy and pay him less or get the senior guy and pay the premium. It’s a toss up…
I saw a job I had applied for a few months ago of which I went through several extensive interviews. The job was put back out on the job boards this evening. I wasn’t disappointed because I expected that, but the simple fact no one even called to tell me they were definitely reclassifying the position and that I was not going to be hired is bullshit. This has happened over and over again, they leave you in limbo never to be heard from again.
So even though I have two good potential things happening, I am still in this tunnel with no end in sight. I could be called at any minute on any day but I do not know when and it is driving me crazy. What can I do? Well at this point it is time to get some more interviews in the pipeline. I am in such a competitive field and at my level people want such specific things. And I swear the difference in getting a job offer or not could be something as minute as what color shirt I happen to be wearing when I interview. I mean you never know what people want and you have to keep working each interview. And it is a sales job what I am doing, the more “no’s” I get the closer I am to a yes, but the whole system sucks ass and I am still stuck in this tunnel where the life is sucked out of me more and more each day. And each day I think more times than I did the day before about just walking away from this place. But I know by doing so I would do more harm to my family and me than I would to those who I left and I would suffer much more than this place.
So I continue to go forward and trying to keep things positive. And yes I know, I am being a whiny-ass bitch again. Yeah that sucks and I am acting like a real pussy, but it is only temporary.
posted by Just Call Me Jay at 3:31 AM
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