I spent most of the work day preparing a shipment of soggy, moldy files. I can’t believe how long it took. I had trouble finding dry ice, something I have no experience using. Apparently when Wal-Mart is out of dry ice you’re out of dry ice. I was afraid we no longer lived in a capitalist economy but a Walopoly. Then I found a place in Gulfport that sells it.
La a. is driving me crazy. We still talk, but it’s the same situation.
Sunny today and I’m overcoming slothfulness. I finally removed six months worth of recyclables from my closet.
The yoga studio opened back up a couple of weeks ago. I went back to class today and it felt pretty good. Everybody has a sad story now. The same sad story.
I drove up to Hattiesburg with a couple of coworkers to pick up two trucks, as we lost two during the storm. They’re kind of shitty trucks. One of the trucks didn’t have any gas in it, or so we thought. The gas gauge must be busted.
I realized when I got there that I hadn’t been up to Hattiesburg since I evacuated ahead of Ivan last year–the trip of the infamous five-hour delay. This trip was no more or less exciting.
I’ve been going through the motions of life the last week or so. I eat, I breathe. Occasionally I sleep. Time to get remotivated and make decisions about my life.
I feel better now that I’ve accomplished something at the Revised Workplace. I did a little bureaucratic dance to get our soggy, moldy, muddy library files freeze-dried. Yes, you can freeze dry papers to kill the mold. We’ll be shipping them Monday.
One of our LE guys has been busy ordering firearms and other such stuff. To overhear him you’d think he was arming us against the Soviets.
The incident is demobilizing tomorrow. We have our park back. Whoopee.
I have a subscription to The Economist. One fringe benefit is that my junk mail is somewhat more upscale. Today I got junk mail from The Council on Foreign Relations. No Ed McMahon anywhere. I may NOT already be a winner.
I went with another ranger to check out Cat Island, the forgotten island of our park’s collection. The handful of homes on the island’s private property were destroyed as was our little storage shed. I got a chance to operate our 32-foot Boston Whaler, which was good practice. I haven’t piloted a boat in over a year.
The park’s neighbors at the Gulf Coast Research Lab donated two hundred and something pounds of live shrimps to our camp today. The shrimps were raised in a pond as part of an aquaculture experiment. The facility was badly damaged by the storm and the lab needed to get rid of them. So we ate them for dinner.
It was a lot of shrimp and took a long time to prepare. We made an assembly line to clean and dehead them. I was working alongside firefighters from places like Wyoming and Montana. They thought the whole thing was pretty funny and I’m sure they’ll be talking about it for a long time. The shrimps were boiled with red potatoes and corn on the cob and we had an all-you-can-eat seafood feast. It was just piled up on a table and we filled our plates. The logisitics section got fried some fish as well. Our carpenter even constructed an impromptu table with holes in the middle so we could just stand around, peel, and throw the shells away. My stomach is about to burst.
That was some good stuff. Which goes to show you that good stuff can come from bad stuff.
Back to work today. The recovery effort at the park is starting to wind down. The current incident team will be replaced by a smaller one next week.
I found some stuff saved from my office, mostly books and training manuals.
There was snow in Denver when I left. It’s warm and humid here.
On the flight back to Gulfport there was a snotty California ho’ next to me. I tried to make small talk but she just iTuned me out.
I watched a lot of baseball and played poker this weekend. Didn’t do any hiking as I planned, as the weather was inclement.
The following Yankees suck: Alex Rodriguez, Randy Johnson, Jason Giambi, Mike Mussina, and Gary Sheffield. All five are overpaid superstars and all have failed to win a World Series for the Yankees. It’s amazing how much the team accomplished with Scott Brosius, Orlando Hernandez, Tino Martinez, Andy Pettitte, and Paul O’Neill in their steads.
In fact, the Yankees haven’t won a World Series since Jason Giambi joined them, so I’ll call it “The Curse… of Jason Giambi’s steroids-shriveled testicles.” Fuckers.
Coming to Denver on Columbus Day weekend is like showing up at Disneyworld thirty minutes before closing. Winter weather is upon the mountains and I don’t ski. So much for a hike.
I visited the regional office in Denver yesterday. I thought as an agency employee it wouldn’t be so hard to get in the door. The front desk guard was pretty nice, but since I didn’t have an appointment or a name of someone I wanted to see I wasn’t able to come in. Hardly anyone was around because of the holiday weekend and because it was lunchtime. Somebody came up front with a couple of phone numbers and name for me to try Tuesday.
I drove up to Rocky Mountain and had better luck there: the personnel lady was very helpful and I got a lead on a job that may open up. It’s in a place that is pretty remote by my standards.
We watched the Yankees play baseball last night like they had no business in the playoffs. The continuing misery was delayed today by rain.
Played tennis with my brother and his mother in law. Now enjoying a slothful afternoon. I’d like to plan a hike for tomorrow or Monday.
I’m flying to Denver tomorrow to visit my brother. I’ll look around for jobs while I’m there too. I can’t wait to get the hell out of Disasterland.