Days like this remind me why I'm so glad that I'm leaving. The complete lack of efficiency and effectiveness by those around me continues to astonish. Granted, moving usually makes me cranky, so we can just chalk it up to that.
But after a day of being incredibly busy since 7 in the morning, hauling things, being rained on, hauling more things, sweating, getting rained on, chasing elevators, hauling things, braving hills....I look like this
Its not pretty, is it? Granted, the sweat has since dried in my hair, so it's just a little stiff. It's my stench that is more disconcerting. But I have formation in a half hour...so showering at this point would be counter productive.
It's also disconcerting how much stuff I have. Most people are moving a single laundry cart. Between my roommate and I, we have two carts, a floor dolly and a long dolly. It's impressive that we can fit everything that goes into those boxes into a single barracks room. But there you have it.
Anyway, I need to set aside time to write some letters, write some poetry....write SOMEthing. I'll be sitting in this room, door open til 1600, for the next two days. Room restriction, apparently, because I'm outprocessing, and therefore not to be trusted.
I love this feeling.
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