I took this past Tuesday off. I needed to register my car. Maryland's MVA is only open on weekdays between 8 am and 4:30 pm for vehicle registration. Hence, I needed to take the day off to register my car. Gotta tell the truth...didn't really mind the excuse for taking a day off. I'm sticking with my personal goal to take a day off in the middle of the week about every three or four weeks just to stay even moderately balanced with this job.
So the car was my excuse. Problem was, I didn't really *want* to register my car in Maryland. The Honey Bee (as my coworkers call it), a mellow yellow Mini Cooper, has Hawaii plates...you know, the ones with the rainbow on them. I've had people take pictures of the plates here in DC. So--*way* cooler to keep my Hawaii plates than to get boring, old Maryland ones. But my Hawaii plates had expired (umm, in April...I kinda wasn't paying attention), as had the inspection sticker. I checked Honolulu City & County's website for guidance on what to do, even looked for a phone number to call, but it was *absolutely* unhelpful.
I resigned myself to Maryland plates. Reluctantly. But a day off...that helped ease the disappointment.
The day started with a regular physical therapy appointment (shoulder's still bugging me). I headed up Rt 1 to the Beltsville MVA, hoping to find a Maryland inspection station along the way. I stopped at one, two, three, four, five, six...eight, ten stations! before finding one that could fit me in. The inspector wasn't there, wouldn't be in for another hour, hour and a half; they didn't have any appointments that day; they didn't do inspections anymore; their inspector was out at the MVA getting more inspection slips...was getting a little frustrated.
*Finally* I found a place that could do it within an hour, and as luck had it, there was a diner right next door. An inspection *and* breakfast (had been craving biscuits and gravy for days!)...now *that's* what I'm talking about. I finished up with breakfast and still had some time left, so popped across the street to the bike shop to pick up some new grips, a pair of paniers and a mounting system for my bike to make the 15-mile round trip commute to and from work on the bike a little more comfortable.
Got back to the inspection station, only to find that the Honey Bee had failed. What?! The car is only three years old, still under warranty...what on earth could be wrong? Well, the passenger side headlight was mis-aligned, staring down at the street too steeply, and the assembly was broken and couldn't be adjusted. The inspector suggested I have the dealership replace it.
The day just got complicated.
The dealership is down in Alexandria. I was in College Park. Only about 12 miles away...through DC traffic.
I resigned myself to an unplanned trip to Virginia. By the grace of the PTB, I was able to get a service appointment with the dealership enroute, and pulled right into the bay when I got there. And there I sat...for an hour and a quarter. To replace a g-d headlight assembly?! Yes, to replace a g-d headlight assembly. I tried breathing deeply. I tried reading a book, a magazine, a newspaper. But I was just getting *frustrated!* I could feel my day off slipping through my fingers, with the possibility dangling that I wouldn't even be able to get accomplished my single goal for the day.
Thankfully!! the Rocket Scientist was keeping me company on Skype IM, sending encouraging messages and distracting me from my downward spiral. The single saving grace at this point in my day.
Eventually they got my car done...after pointing out that I had a nail in one of my tires...did I need them to fix that? Replace the tire? Wash the car?...Is the tire flat? Well, no, it's a run-flat...Is it low on air? No, but it's leaking...No? Well, good. Give me the damn car back. I've *got* to get it registered today.
'Long about this point, I realized it might be best for *everyone* involved if I stopped at home and got a bite to eat for lunch. Besides, if I timed it right, I could Skype with the Rocket Scientist for a few moments before he went to sleep...which really is the best part of a day off right now.
I said good night to him, and headed back to the inspection station. Where the car passed, and I got my paperwork. Continued on to the MVA. Got cut off by some *jackass* who sped up to merge when a lane ended due to construction. Nearly traded paint with the sumbitch before I realized he didn't give a *damn* if he scratched up his p.o.s. car, while the Honey Bee is much better loved than that. I blinked first, honked in disgust, and got flipped off for my troubles.
And started breathing deeply again, to remind myself that I truly am blessed. I have a nice car. I have a good job. I have a sweet little home. I have a family and friends that love me. I have free time, an education, options, hobbies and interests, good health, opportunities...so many things that lots of other people don't have. Deep breath. Don't sabotage the day with negativity. Deep breath.The day will be fine if you let it.
I resolved to maintain my calm at the MVA, no matter what, no matter how long I had to wait.
So I waited. Online, projected wait times were listed at less than 40 minutes.
I resigned myself to settling in for a wait. 40 minutes came and went for me. 50 minutes came and went. An hour. An hour and fifteen minutes...and finally my number was called. I took my paperwork to the counter, smiled serenely at the clerk and stood by patiently to answer any of her questions. Did I ever have a Maryland driver's license? Yes, a really long time ago and I registered my motorcycle in Maryland about a year ago, so I should have an ID number already in the system. Why didn't I have a Maryland license? Because I'm active duty military, and my Hawaii license is still good, so I didn't need to get a Maryland license.
She goes off to check the blue book value of the car, and comes back to tell me that I have to pay a six percent excise tax on the market value of the car in order to register it. I do some quick math in my head...well, my brain doesn't work that quickly, but it seemed like an awfully high number, so I broke out my phone and used the calculator. And nearly choked when I saw that they wanted me to pay over $1150 to register my car. OUT OF THEIR *FREAKING* MINDS!!
Long and short of it was: when I registered my motorcycle in Maryland (which I did not have the option of registering in Hawaii, since the bike had never *been* there...actually, I need to look into that again), that was a declaration to the state that I was establishing my residency there. Since I established my residency at that time, I had two months after that to register my car there without being subject to the six percent excise tax. Regardless of the fact that I'm active duty military. Regardless of the fact that I pay taxes in Hawaii and am a resident of Hawaii. Regardless of the fact that, damn it, I'm a good person, not a slacker trying to game the system...Ok, I think I might have lost my cool there for a bit while talking to the supervisor. He finally recommended I bring a copy of my transfer orders back in to the DMV so they could verify that I had orders into the state within the last year.
I made it out to the parking lot and the safety of the Honey Bee before the tears of frustration started leaking out of my eyes. I called my sister and asked how, HOW, *HOW* to deal with this level of frustration without giving up, getting negative and being absolutely *pissy* about the indignity of the bureaucracy? Sadly, she had no zen-inspired answer for me.
But during our conversation, I resolved myself to make more of an attempt to figure out how to keep my Hawaii registration. Taking advantage of the six hour time difference with Hawaii that I normally curse, I would find a phone number, work my way through the phone system, leave a message, find the information, and figure out how to renew my registration so I didn't have to pay Maryland a single, g-d *dime!*
I calmed down enough to drive home. And when I got there, I searched the Honolulu City & County website, found a likely phone number, and somewhat skeptically, called it. A very nice wahine answered. On the first ring. I explained my quandary. She very helpfully gave me another number to call, which I promptly did. And another very kind wahine answered. On the first ring. I explained my dilemma again. She told me where to go on the website for the two forms I needed, told me how much my registration bill was and gave me the mailing address to which to send all the paperwork. I nearly wept with relief and thanked her sincerely.
At some point during the abject frustration of the day, I texted to the Rocket Scientist, "There is no easy button," suggesting that I was okay with and fairly used to a certain level of resistance from the universe in getting things done. What I didn't realize until my phone calls with those two helpful souls halfway across the Pacific, was that sometimes, just sometimes, the easy button comes from listening to what the universe is trying to tell you. I didn't *want* to register my car in Maryland, and by forcing it, I ran into all kinds of resistance...at *every* turn, it felt like. But when I went to do what I wanted to do in the first place, the easy button kicked in, and the resistance disappeared. There's a bigger lesson in that, somewhere.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
A Sense of Urgency
I ran my first half-marathon this past weekend. It was a trail run, and a little muddy, so maybe a little more challenging than a regular road-race half-marathon...but I might only be telling myself that because my performance was [shame-facedly] pathetic. I finished. That's about as far as I'm willing to go with "bragging" about how I did.
Over the course of the 13.1 miles, though, I did think about a lot of stuff. What was for lunch (turned out to be a gatorade, bag of potato chips and a Mounds candy bar, post race). Whether, at mile 7.5 going steeply down hill, it was the seven years on ships, four of them on patrol boats, that had destroyed my knees to the point that I had to step to the side of the trail, bend forward and want to cry because going down hurt so freaking bad. Or was it just bad knees? Or complete lack of training (I'm going to use this excuse, because it's the only one I can control in the future)? And why the *hell* it felt like someone was bashing my calves with a baseball bat to make them cramp up and spasm so much? Guess I should have had that gatorade pre-race instead of post-race. It was about at that point that I started walking.
But I also thought about how my sense of urgency for things has changed since I left the operational fleet. I actually find myself asking the question, is anybody gonna *die* if I don't turn in this [report, white paper, digest, panel, Q response, talking points] within the next 10 minutes like I'm supposed to? If the answer is "no," I absolutely will still try to get it in on time, but will take the extra 15 minutes I might need to make sure it is a worthy product. Because, underway, the "is someone gonna die?" question is completely legitimate. Sometimes, underway, any action is better than no action. If no action is taken, ships could collide, helicopters could run out of gas while still a long ways off from the closest flight deck, lines could part with such force as to break bones, and lookouts could miss spotting that survivor treading water with only their melon of a head sticking out to be seen. Sometimes the action I've taken might not have been exactly the right thing to do, but it was far better than doing nothing.
One of my favorite quotes is the bastardization of Voltaire's original, "don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good." Exactly! Sometimes, good enough is just that!
And I also thought about how tactical decisions are different than strategic decisions (I swear, I'm not making this up...this really is what I thought about while I was running. It was a long race. At least for me.). Tactical decisions are finite...or maybe better said, there is a definable span to their execution.
They are bound-able. They have a beginning and an end. Go-fast chases are over when the bad guys are caught; hopefully, search and rescue cases are over when the PIW is found, or they're over when ACTSUS is granted; boat detail is over when the boat is recovered, griped down and all gear stowed.
Strategic decisions are...different (I shared my brilliant insight with the Rocket Scientist, not realizing at the time that he teaches strategic planning in war-gaming scenarios when he's stateside. His response, "of course it is."). But despite the recognition that strategic decision-making is different than tactical decision-making, I'm still stuck with the inclination to understand how the difference affects my ability, as well as a collective's ability, to make, defend, execute, message, recover from and generally live with each type.
So strategic decisions are harder because there typically isn't a need to make them *RIGHT NOW!* like with tactical decisions. I've been thinking for months that I need to figure out how to cool my house this summer because I don't have central a/c, don't like window units, and am actually going to be in Maryland for the heat and humidity this year. For *months!* I've been thinking about this. Finally, last week, I started doing some market research, learned about high-velocity and mini-split systems, looked up some companies...all the strategic stuff related to solving my house's cooling problem. Once the process got tactical, things got easier. A list of companies, phone numbers to call, estimates to schedule. Much more clearly defined and tangible. And you know what I found out today when the first estimator came out to the house...because of my lame ass procrastination to make a decision, the earliest this company can do the install is six to eight weeks...the middle to end of JULY!! Um, silly Girl...summer is well on its way to being half over by then.
Of course, I'll still go ahead and have the system installed as soon as the company can do it...and call it strategic planning for next summer. That's called "messaging" in my world of work.
Another thing about strategic decisions -- they typically require major process evaluation and potential change. Long-range planning without looking at the underlying process is just an extended tactical view. Good strategy involves thorough understanding of tactics: how things are done, why they're done that way and an assessment of whether there is a better way to do them. I called my sister today, about mid-day. Nothing bad was happening (well, except maybe my attitude). But nothing good was going on either. I was just feeling Put Upon. Weight of the world on my shoulders kind of thing...juggling multiple seven-figure issues, schedule crunches, trying to be in two--hell, four places at once, doing six things at a time. Had to leave work early (or at least early for this office...still put in an eight-hour day) to get home to meet the a/c estimator. Lower priority events fell off the plate.
This really is all relevant: how things are done -- I push myself, try to do too much at times, take on more than I really should; why they're done that way -- it's just my nature, I guess, don't know what the hell I'm trying to prove; a better way to do them -- quit making lists of all the crap I feel like I need to do...hire someone else to clean the house. And paint the house. And tile the floors. And install the a/c. In other words, prioritize better. Recognize, accept and move on from the fact that I can't do it all *and* I don't have to.
And this really is all relevant to work. Like critically, desperately relevant. Budget cuts don't ease the difficulty of strategic decisions. Less money means strategic decisions are so much more important (critically), but ridiculously (desperately) more difficult to actually make.
Welcome to my world. At least I'm not sore from the race anymore.
Over the course of the 13.1 miles, though, I did think about a lot of stuff. What was for lunch (turned out to be a gatorade, bag of potato chips and a Mounds candy bar, post race). Whether, at mile 7.5 going steeply down hill, it was the seven years on ships, four of them on patrol boats, that had destroyed my knees to the point that I had to step to the side of the trail, bend forward and want to cry because going down hurt so freaking bad. Or was it just bad knees? Or complete lack of training (I'm going to use this excuse, because it's the only one I can control in the future)? And why the *hell* it felt like someone was bashing my calves with a baseball bat to make them cramp up and spasm so much? Guess I should have had that gatorade pre-race instead of post-race. It was about at that point that I started walking.
But I also thought about how my sense of urgency for things has changed since I left the operational fleet. I actually find myself asking the question, is anybody gonna *die* if I don't turn in this [report, white paper, digest, panel, Q response, talking points] within the next 10 minutes like I'm supposed to? If the answer is "no," I absolutely will still try to get it in on time, but will take the extra 15 minutes I might need to make sure it is a worthy product. Because, underway, the "is someone gonna die?" question is completely legitimate. Sometimes, underway, any action is better than no action. If no action is taken, ships could collide, helicopters could run out of gas while still a long ways off from the closest flight deck, lines could part with such force as to break bones, and lookouts could miss spotting that survivor treading water with only their melon of a head sticking out to be seen. Sometimes the action I've taken might not have been exactly the right thing to do, but it was far better than doing nothing.
One of my favorite quotes is the bastardization of Voltaire's original, "don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good." Exactly! Sometimes, good enough is just that!
And I also thought about how tactical decisions are different than strategic decisions (I swear, I'm not making this up...this really is what I thought about while I was running. It was a long race. At least for me.). Tactical decisions are finite...or maybe better said, there is a definable span to their execution.
They are bound-able. They have a beginning and an end. Go-fast chases are over when the bad guys are caught; hopefully, search and rescue cases are over when the PIW is found, or they're over when ACTSUS is granted; boat detail is over when the boat is recovered, griped down and all gear stowed.
Strategic decisions are...different (I shared my brilliant insight with the Rocket Scientist, not realizing at the time that he teaches strategic planning in war-gaming scenarios when he's stateside. His response, "of course it is."). But despite the recognition that strategic decision-making is different than tactical decision-making, I'm still stuck with the inclination to understand how the difference affects my ability, as well as a collective's ability, to make, defend, execute, message, recover from and generally live with each type.
So strategic decisions are harder because there typically isn't a need to make them *RIGHT NOW!* like with tactical decisions. I've been thinking for months that I need to figure out how to cool my house this summer because I don't have central a/c, don't like window units, and am actually going to be in Maryland for the heat and humidity this year. For *months!* I've been thinking about this. Finally, last week, I started doing some market research, learned about high-velocity and mini-split systems, looked up some companies...all the strategic stuff related to solving my house's cooling problem. Once the process got tactical, things got easier. A list of companies, phone numbers to call, estimates to schedule. Much more clearly defined and tangible. And you know what I found out today when the first estimator came out to the house...because of my lame ass procrastination to make a decision, the earliest this company can do the install is six to eight weeks...the middle to end of JULY!! Um, silly Girl...summer is well on its way to being half over by then.
Of course, I'll still go ahead and have the system installed as soon as the company can do it...and call it strategic planning for next summer. That's called "messaging" in my world of work.
Another thing about strategic decisions -- they typically require major process evaluation and potential change. Long-range planning without looking at the underlying process is just an extended tactical view. Good strategy involves thorough understanding of tactics: how things are done, why they're done that way and an assessment of whether there is a better way to do them. I called my sister today, about mid-day. Nothing bad was happening (well, except maybe my attitude). But nothing good was going on either. I was just feeling Put Upon. Weight of the world on my shoulders kind of thing...juggling multiple seven-figure issues, schedule crunches, trying to be in two--hell, four places at once, doing six things at a time. Had to leave work early (or at least early for this office...still put in an eight-hour day) to get home to meet the a/c estimator. Lower priority events fell off the plate.
This really is all relevant: how things are done -- I push myself, try to do too much at times, take on more than I really should; why they're done that way -- it's just my nature, I guess, don't know what the hell I'm trying to prove; a better way to do them -- quit making lists of all the crap I feel like I need to do...hire someone else to clean the house. And paint the house. And tile the floors. And install the a/c. In other words, prioritize better. Recognize, accept and move on from the fact that I can't do it all *and* I don't have to.
And this really is all relevant to work. Like critically, desperately relevant. Budget cuts don't ease the difficulty of strategic decisions. Less money means strategic decisions are so much more important (critically), but ridiculously (desperately) more difficult to actually make.
Welcome to my world. At least I'm not sore from the race anymore.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
The Other Side of a Deployment
"Now set the Special Sea Detail, set the Special Sea Detail."
"Now all visitors lay ashore."
"Fantail. Conn. Strike the brow."
"Now, stand clear of all mooring lines while the OOD rocks the shafts."
"Foc'sle. Conn. Take in Line One."
(one prolonged blast)
"Focsle, Fantail. Conn. Strike all lines below."
"Now, secure from Special Sea Detail. Set the at-sea watch, 0800 to 1200s on deck."
That's how most all of my deployments have started. Or at least that's the simplified version...god knows, there's a lot of other steps before and in between all those. But I'm the one standing on the bridge wing waving briefly at friends and family land-bound on shore, smack in the middle of all the excitement, chomping at the bit to go off and do great things for our nation, have grand adventures out in harm's way...
...not the one left behind to continue on with my daily routine, to muddle through bills and chores, waiting for messages, calls or emails. Trepidatiously listening to the radio for news of explosions, suicide bombers, coordinated attacks half-a-world away. Trying my damndest not to count the days until the deployment is over, and the Rocket Scientist is on his way home.
It's a different view of the world.
Sure, I'll get wrapped up in budgetary drama, program mischief and personnel foibles, and forget for a little while that he is far, far away, in very close proximity to people who want him and all his compatriots dead, dead, dead. There's always dinner, or lunch, or a snack to think about. A to-do list calling my name and enticing me to plan how to get it all done most efficiently...I still haven't gotten a replacement battery for The Old Man. Maybe I can get one at the local auto parts store, or do I need to go to the dealership? Really need to do that if I want to ride again anytime soon. Hopefully, it's just a dead battery, and not something more serious like a starter problem...but when I do get the bike fixed, I'll head out for a ride, doesn't matter where or how far. I mean, I know it won't be as long or as fun as the one the Rocket Scientist and I are gonna take when he gets back...and there I go again, wondering how he's doing, mixed with a low-grade level of worry that he's okay.
And that's how I expect it will go for the next three or four months. Thankfully, his deployment is not constrained by limited bandwidth or severe operational demands that preclude his regular access to the internet. Somehow he's allowed, omg, *Facebook* on his work computer, and wireless in his office which means he can take his tablet with him, and we can Skype throughout the day. The constant and readily accessible communications mean that we get to continue our re-acquaintance despite the distance...which wouldn't necessarily be the case if I was underway. If I was the one who was deployed, we'd be restricted to emails throughout the day and the occasional phone conversation during a port call, maybe a Skype call if I was lucky enough to find a hotel room with wi-fi.
Though even with that, communications are a lot easier now than when I was going out on my first deployments on BOUTWELL. Underway connectivity has come a long way in the last twelve years. No more TCs printing out hard copies of messages from the morale email account, and leaving them, folded in half to peek out of a mailbox accessible to anybody on the boat.
So things could be worse. But this other side of a deployment requires a different kind of strength, faith and ability to mentally compartmentalize than I realized. By strength, I mean the personal strength to not let the low-grade worries spiral out of control into a crippling angst that denies me the ability to go through days by myself. Faith...faith in this nascent but overdue and *exactly right* relationship that it can withstand the demands of time, distance and communication frustrations (like when the internet connection is bad on his end because he's on the same network as 600 other soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines all trying to talk to their sweeties waiting at home and the audio of our conversation gets all garbled and warped so that I can't understand a word he's saying and have to ask him to repeat himself half a dozen times before I realize he's asked me how dinner was...for example). And the ability to mentally compartmentalize the worries and fears away, separate from everyday stuff so that I can carry on a decent conversation with him without badgering him about conditions on the ground, when he's coming home, what the bad guys are doing, or if he's safe.
And, as I sit here in my backyard, feeding a companionable little fire piece by piece of the brush from the pile that needs to go away, watching the first fireflies of the season (at least the first to me...I haven't been out in the backyard at this time of the evening for about three weeks) wink on and off, I realize that my discomfit is not simply worry for the Rocket Scientist's safety. I just plain miss him. I would like to share my evening with him, listen to him laugh, talk story and relax together into an easy comfortable place like we did while he was on R&R.
I didn't know about all that before. "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." I'm going with daring adventure...as usual :)
"Now all visitors lay ashore."
"Fantail. Conn. Strike the brow."
"Now, stand clear of all mooring lines while the OOD rocks the shafts."
"Foc'sle. Conn. Take in Line One."
(one prolonged blast)
"Focsle, Fantail. Conn. Strike all lines below."
"Now, secure from Special Sea Detail. Set the at-sea watch, 0800 to 1200s on deck."
That's how most all of my deployments have started. Or at least that's the simplified version...god knows, there's a lot of other steps before and in between all those. But I'm the one standing on the bridge wing waving briefly at friends and family land-bound on shore, smack in the middle of all the excitement, chomping at the bit to go off and do great things for our nation, have grand adventures out in harm's way...
...not the one left behind to continue on with my daily routine, to muddle through bills and chores, waiting for messages, calls or emails. Trepidatiously listening to the radio for news of explosions, suicide bombers, coordinated attacks half-a-world away. Trying my damndest not to count the days until the deployment is over, and the Rocket Scientist is on his way home.
It's a different view of the world.
Sure, I'll get wrapped up in budgetary drama, program mischief and personnel foibles, and forget for a little while that he is far, far away, in very close proximity to people who want him and all his compatriots dead, dead, dead. There's always dinner, or lunch, or a snack to think about. A to-do list calling my name and enticing me to plan how to get it all done most efficiently...I still haven't gotten a replacement battery for The Old Man. Maybe I can get one at the local auto parts store, or do I need to go to the dealership? Really need to do that if I want to ride again anytime soon. Hopefully, it's just a dead battery, and not something more serious like a starter problem...but when I do get the bike fixed, I'll head out for a ride, doesn't matter where or how far. I mean, I know it won't be as long or as fun as the one the Rocket Scientist and I are gonna take when he gets back...and there I go again, wondering how he's doing, mixed with a low-grade level of worry that he's okay.
And that's how I expect it will go for the next three or four months. Thankfully, his deployment is not constrained by limited bandwidth or severe operational demands that preclude his regular access to the internet. Somehow he's allowed, omg, *Facebook* on his work computer, and wireless in his office which means he can take his tablet with him, and we can Skype throughout the day. The constant and readily accessible communications mean that we get to continue our re-acquaintance despite the distance...which wouldn't necessarily be the case if I was underway. If I was the one who was deployed, we'd be restricted to emails throughout the day and the occasional phone conversation during a port call, maybe a Skype call if I was lucky enough to find a hotel room with wi-fi.
Though even with that, communications are a lot easier now than when I was going out on my first deployments on BOUTWELL. Underway connectivity has come a long way in the last twelve years. No more TCs printing out hard copies of messages from the morale email account, and leaving them, folded in half to peek out of a mailbox accessible to anybody on the boat.
So things could be worse. But this other side of a deployment requires a different kind of strength, faith and ability to mentally compartmentalize than I realized. By strength, I mean the personal strength to not let the low-grade worries spiral out of control into a crippling angst that denies me the ability to go through days by myself. Faith...faith in this nascent but overdue and *exactly right* relationship that it can withstand the demands of time, distance and communication frustrations (like when the internet connection is bad on his end because he's on the same network as 600 other soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines all trying to talk to their sweeties waiting at home and the audio of our conversation gets all garbled and warped so that I can't understand a word he's saying and have to ask him to repeat himself half a dozen times before I realize he's asked me how dinner was...for example). And the ability to mentally compartmentalize the worries and fears away, separate from everyday stuff so that I can carry on a decent conversation with him without badgering him about conditions on the ground, when he's coming home, what the bad guys are doing, or if he's safe.
And, as I sit here in my backyard, feeding a companionable little fire piece by piece of the brush from the pile that needs to go away, watching the first fireflies of the season (at least the first to me...I haven't been out in the backyard at this time of the evening for about three weeks) wink on and off, I realize that my discomfit is not simply worry for the Rocket Scientist's safety. I just plain miss him. I would like to share my evening with him, listen to him laugh, talk story and relax together into an easy comfortable place like we did while he was on R&R.
I didn't know about all that before. "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." I'm going with daring adventure...as usual :)
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Juggling Priorities
It's not that I haven't *wanted* to write a blog post. I've got about a dozen ideas for posts rattling around in my little pea brain. None of them are particularly well fleshed-out though. Which shouldn't be surprising to me (but somehow is), given that the fleshing out doesn't usually happen until I'm halfway through writing the actual post. So, I guess I've been using that as an excuse.
Or, rather, I should say one of a few excuses so that I don't feel bad simply about not making the blog a priority where it belongs, up there with all the other *must-do* priorities I have right now. Needless to say, I haven't been doing a good job of managing my time, with the ramp up of time at work to about 60 hours a week.
I realized about half-way through last week that I was getting more sleep on KISKA, even when XO and I were port and starboard, standing six hours on/six hours off of watch, than I have been lately. But getting home at 7 pm, finding dinner, and getting everything ready for the next day, which kicks off a short time later, at 5 am, doesn't leave much time for oh, much of anything, never mind sleep.
Lots of things have suffered. I finally got around to cleaning the house yesterday. The dust bunnies I vacuumed up from underneath the bed had very nearly morphed into dust elephants. And thankfully, I was able to clean up the brush pile in the back yard before the city started charging me a $10/day fine for encouraging pests. And then there are the things I'm just not willing to let suffer...daily workouts (though I have started biking to work...call it multi-tasking) and reacquaintancing conversations, even if both cut into sleep. I've said it before -- I'll sleep when I'm dead.
Last week was particularly bad. There were a couple of largish projects due that I just didn't have any idea for the best way to proceed. I asked other people in the office how they were going about completing their portions of one specific tasker, and got some good advice. Nevertheless, I found myself procrastinating until the absolute last minute, and then staying until 7:30 pm to get the information together. Interestingly, once I actually sat down to add my contribution, I found that it didn't take me as long as I had expected. I think I got stuck in my own linearity...the first item on the list of things for which I was supposed to be providing analysis had me completely stumped. I never bothered to look beyond that first item to see if any of the other topics might have been easier. Someone else took over that first item, and I soared through the rest of the stuff. There's a lesson somewhere in that.
Once I got done with that project, I took another hour to clean up my email inbox. Good *lord* but do we get an insane amount of emails through that office. I've been gone from my desk for an hour long meeting, to come back to a couple dozen emails or more. Some are spam, some are FYSA (pronounced fye-sah, means "for your situational awareness"), some are taskers. Somehow the FYSA ones take more time than I think they should...one of the things I'm learning in this job is that the Big Picture matters. That random FYSA email talking about the House budget proposal actually does have relevance to what I do.
Which brings me to think about why this job is such a time suck right now for me, when things are supposed to be relatively mellow ("relative" being the operative term. I've heard things get quite a bit busier with longer hours in another month or so when we start getting into negotiations with the Department about our FY14 budget.). None of any of the issues I'm dealing with are particularly difficult by themselves. Some are very technical (oof, the things I'm learning about FTE, FTP, PPAs, CIFPs, and all the details of how they are reported in the budget), but none of them is rocket science (I actually know a rocket scientist, and he *is* wicked smart, so it always makes me smile to use that analogy.). They're just tedious and intricate and oh, yeah, *important.* And inter-related.
That's where I'm having the troubles. I'm still green enough with personnel issues that I've got an almost debilitating case of not knowing what I don't know. I'll ask a question, expecting to understand, and be able to bound the answer, but instead find that the answer just opens up a whole 'nother can of worms that I have to untangle and identify. I wish I could share a good example, but I have to leave this in very general terms. And then I'll ask another question about another topic, and find that it relates to the first one. I feel like I'm studying a road map, but missing all the intersections because I don't know what half the streets look like.
I know it will all come together with time and the experience which I am slowly gaining. I just have to hope it happens quickly enough so that there's not a major collision between issues I don't even know are issues.
Or, rather, I should say one of a few excuses so that I don't feel bad simply about not making the blog a priority where it belongs, up there with all the other *must-do* priorities I have right now. Needless to say, I haven't been doing a good job of managing my time, with the ramp up of time at work to about 60 hours a week.
I realized about half-way through last week that I was getting more sleep on KISKA, even when XO and I were port and starboard, standing six hours on/six hours off of watch, than I have been lately. But getting home at 7 pm, finding dinner, and getting everything ready for the next day, which kicks off a short time later, at 5 am, doesn't leave much time for oh, much of anything, never mind sleep.
Lots of things have suffered. I finally got around to cleaning the house yesterday. The dust bunnies I vacuumed up from underneath the bed had very nearly morphed into dust elephants. And thankfully, I was able to clean up the brush pile in the back yard before the city started charging me a $10/day fine for encouraging pests. And then there are the things I'm just not willing to let suffer...daily workouts (though I have started biking to work...call it multi-tasking) and reacquaintancing conversations, even if both cut into sleep. I've said it before -- I'll sleep when I'm dead.
Last week was particularly bad. There were a couple of largish projects due that I just didn't have any idea for the best way to proceed. I asked other people in the office how they were going about completing their portions of one specific tasker, and got some good advice. Nevertheless, I found myself procrastinating until the absolute last minute, and then staying until 7:30 pm to get the information together. Interestingly, once I actually sat down to add my contribution, I found that it didn't take me as long as I had expected. I think I got stuck in my own linearity...the first item on the list of things for which I was supposed to be providing analysis had me completely stumped. I never bothered to look beyond that first item to see if any of the other topics might have been easier. Someone else took over that first item, and I soared through the rest of the stuff. There's a lesson somewhere in that.
Once I got done with that project, I took another hour to clean up my email inbox. Good *lord* but do we get an insane amount of emails through that office. I've been gone from my desk for an hour long meeting, to come back to a couple dozen emails or more. Some are spam, some are FYSA (pronounced fye-sah, means "for your situational awareness"), some are taskers. Somehow the FYSA ones take more time than I think they should...one of the things I'm learning in this job is that the Big Picture matters. That random FYSA email talking about the House budget proposal actually does have relevance to what I do.
Which brings me to think about why this job is such a time suck right now for me, when things are supposed to be relatively mellow ("relative" being the operative term. I've heard things get quite a bit busier with longer hours in another month or so when we start getting into negotiations with the Department about our FY14 budget.). None of any of the issues I'm dealing with are particularly difficult by themselves. Some are very technical (oof, the things I'm learning about FTE, FTP, PPAs, CIFPs, and all the details of how they are reported in the budget), but none of them is rocket science (I actually know a rocket scientist, and he *is* wicked smart, so it always makes me smile to use that analogy.). They're just tedious and intricate and oh, yeah, *important.* And inter-related.
That's where I'm having the troubles. I'm still green enough with personnel issues that I've got an almost debilitating case of not knowing what I don't know. I'll ask a question, expecting to understand, and be able to bound the answer, but instead find that the answer just opens up a whole 'nother can of worms that I have to untangle and identify. I wish I could share a good example, but I have to leave this in very general terms. And then I'll ask another question about another topic, and find that it relates to the first one. I feel like I'm studying a road map, but missing all the intersections because I don't know what half the streets look like.
I know it will all come together with time and the experience which I am slowly gaining. I just have to hope it happens quickly enough so that there's not a major collision between issues I don't even know are issues.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
A Good Job
Only been in the job for two months and things have already changed. Sounds pretty typical for the Coast Guard. I'm switching accounts from stuff in the Capabilities world to stuff in the Personnel accounts. I think the XO is trying to level out responsibilities for a little more parity between the Reviewers. The current Reviewer for the Personnel accounts has a bunch of other stuff she's responsible for, all of which seems to come due at the same time, so she gets absolutely swamped at certain points in the budget cycle. It'll be a slow-ish relief process as we trade duties, but we've got the time since we're both in the office, just switching desks.
There's a couple of really cool things about taking over the new accounts. I'll learn more about pay, health care, hiring, the civilian work force, reserves, personnel policy in general (think hazing, equal opportunity, harassment, all that), promotions, insourcing, boards, bonuses, housing...than I probably ever wanted to know. I got in to some personnel issues as XO and CO, but this is a *whole* 'nother level. I might actually end up understanding the officer promotion process, which is almost completely opaque to me right now. Zones, year groups, deep selection, passed over, reordering...I know the words, but have no sense of how they get put together to make a workable system.
There's a couple of really cool things about taking over the new accounts. I'll learn more about pay, health care, hiring, the civilian work force, reserves, personnel policy in general (think hazing, equal opportunity, harassment, all that), promotions, insourcing, boards, bonuses, housing...than I probably ever wanted to know. I got in to some personnel issues as XO and CO, but this is a *whole* 'nother level. I might actually end up understanding the officer promotion process, which is almost completely opaque to me right now. Zones, year groups, deep selection, passed over, reordering...I know the words, but have no sense of how they get put together to make a workable system.
Also, personnel are involved in *everything!* The service wouldn't exist without its people. Programs are made up of people. Take the people away, and nothing gets done (well, except for CGBI (Coast Guard Business Intelligence)--I think there might be metrics in there that are completely automated.). So if I wanted a job that has the potential to have a major impact on the service, well, I've got it now.
I was talking to the most senior Personnel Reviewer earlier this week. He's getting ready to leave, transferring to Air Station Barbers Point (lucky buggah!!). So I've been trying to pick his brain as much as possible before he leaves. It was actually kind of funny. I went to him about two weeks ago about an issue with civilian employees, and he started going into all these *incredibly* technical budget processes with ease and confidence. I left his cubicle with my head spinning, thinking, omg, not only does he sound like such an expert, it's all so complicated, how the hell does he keep it all straight?! and thank gawd!! he's around with all that knowledge so I don't have to figure it out on my own. Haha...joke's on me...now I've got to learn it.
So anyway, I was talking with him, getting a brain dump about an insourcing issue, which is a good topic for getting into a lot of the technicalities. We broke out the FY13 CJ (Congressional Justification) to look at the FTP (full-time personnel) waterfall (stick with me here) and how technical adjustments correct previous years' vapor creates and go on-budget for mil-civ (military-civilian) conversions which straighten out the funding between PPAs (program, project and activity)...aaauughhghggghhhh!! **STOP!!** My brain hurts! I found myself fervently muttering to myself, "please don't let me ef this up, please don't let me ef this up."
One thing he said stuck out to me though. I don't remember exactly what he was talking about, it might have been the technical adjustment table, but he said it's one thing that no one else cares about. The Budget Coordinators don't really pay attention to it, it's not important to the Reviewers. The Personnel Reviewer is the only one who keeps track of it and makes sure it's correct.
Which made me wonder, if no one cares about it, why is it important to make sure it's right? Nobody pays attention to it, probably nobody even ever looks at it. So why all the freaking hassle and gyrations to make sure it's accurate, especially because it changes damn near daily? I know the colloquial definition of integrity is "doing the right thing even when no one is watching." But what about when no one even cares?
I say in my Philosophy, "...a job worth doing is worth doing to the best of my ability. At the end of my tour, I intend to look back and be able to honestly tell myself that I faced every task and challenge to the best of my ability. This is the only way the sacrifices I have made will have been worthwhile." I think what I meant by doing a good job in that sense was based on how it might impact other people. If I was lazy or slack or just didn't give a shit, someone else had to cover for me, whether it was my XO, my guys, my shipmates on another ship, the shoreside maintenance guys or other support folks...somebody still had to do the job to make sure things continued on smoothly. And pawning off responsibility like that is just *lame.*
Maybe there's some staff member somewhere, either in the Department, the Administration or on the Hill that might look at that table...and throw a fit if it doesn't jive with what we say somewhere else, and make lots of other people's lives miserable trying to figure out what the discrepancies are. Or maybe if it's not right this year, it might not be an issue, but it snowballs and becomes a nightmare in another couple of years for someone else to fix.
And then there's the fact that I'm just not sure I could let details that are well within my control and the scope of my responsibility to slide just because of a perceived lack of importance or visibility. It sort of offends my sense of rightness in the world. I prefer to add order and goodness, be a calming effect instead of offering chaos and bedlam. There is most definitely a time and a place for mayhem, shaking up the status quo, rocking the boat, you might say, but I don't think technical budget tables are quite the right forum. For some reason, it feels like being absolutely proficient with the technicalities provides much greater credibility for being able to offer out of the box thinking and creative solutions.
So I've convinced myself yet again that doing a good job for a good job's sake is the way to go.
So anyway, I was talking with him, getting a brain dump about an insourcing issue, which is a good topic for getting into a lot of the technicalities. We broke out the FY13 CJ (Congressional Justification) to look at the FTP (full-time personnel) waterfall (stick with me here) and how technical adjustments correct previous years' vapor creates and go on-budget for mil-civ (military-civilian) conversions which straighten out the funding between PPAs (program, project and activity)...aaauughhghggghhhh!! **STOP!!** My brain hurts! I found myself fervently muttering to myself, "please don't let me ef this up, please don't let me ef this up."
One thing he said stuck out to me though. I don't remember exactly what he was talking about, it might have been the technical adjustment table, but he said it's one thing that no one else cares about. The Budget Coordinators don't really pay attention to it, it's not important to the Reviewers. The Personnel Reviewer is the only one who keeps track of it and makes sure it's correct.
Which made me wonder, if no one cares about it, why is it important to make sure it's right? Nobody pays attention to it, probably nobody even ever looks at it. So why all the freaking hassle and gyrations to make sure it's accurate, especially because it changes damn near daily? I know the colloquial definition of integrity is "doing the right thing even when no one is watching." But what about when no one even cares?
I say in my Philosophy, "...a job worth doing is worth doing to the best of my ability. At the end of my tour, I intend to look back and be able to honestly tell myself that I faced every task and challenge to the best of my ability. This is the only way the sacrifices I have made will have been worthwhile." I think what I meant by doing a good job in that sense was based on how it might impact other people. If I was lazy or slack or just didn't give a shit, someone else had to cover for me, whether it was my XO, my guys, my shipmates on another ship, the shoreside maintenance guys or other support folks...somebody still had to do the job to make sure things continued on smoothly. And pawning off responsibility like that is just *lame.*
Maybe there's some staff member somewhere, either in the Department, the Administration or on the Hill that might look at that table...and throw a fit if it doesn't jive with what we say somewhere else, and make lots of other people's lives miserable trying to figure out what the discrepancies are. Or maybe if it's not right this year, it might not be an issue, but it snowballs and becomes a nightmare in another couple of years for someone else to fix.
And then there's the fact that I'm just not sure I could let details that are well within my control and the scope of my responsibility to slide just because of a perceived lack of importance or visibility. It sort of offends my sense of rightness in the world. I prefer to add order and goodness, be a calming effect instead of offering chaos and bedlam. There is most definitely a time and a place for mayhem, shaking up the status quo, rocking the boat, you might say, but I don't think technical budget tables are quite the right forum. For some reason, it feels like being absolutely proficient with the technicalities provides much greater credibility for being able to offer out of the box thinking and creative solutions.
So I've convinced myself yet again that doing a good job for a good job's sake is the way to go.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Command Swagger v. Murphy-style Smack-down
I'm on the fence again about whether I still have anything to say in this forum. A lot of what I want to talk about, I can't for any number of reasons. Sensitive budget information, easily identifiable characteristics of involved individuals, predecisional (I didn't even know what that word *meant* until two months ago!) discussions about specific programs...all are making it kinda tough to tell stories and figure out how it all fits into the bigger, grander picture.
But what good is a challenge without a little bit of something to overcome? The blogging will continue until morale improves? (snicker)
I am a firm believer in balance. Whether it's work-play, sweet-salty, tree pose or light-dark, both sides of the coin are needed to make a whole piece. The balance that has me stymied right now is the one between self-confidence and humility. My reflex reaction to this spectrum is that I have a lot more experience with humility than self-confidence. Gawd knows, it feels like anytime I get a bit too cocky about something -- my driving skills (cussing another driver for doing something stupid), my professional abilities (thinking I know the whole story), my interpersonal suavity (haha, I actually typed that with a straight face) -- karma, life, Murphy, call it what you will, comes along and smacks some humility back into my little pea brain, usually with, well...humiliating force. So I feel like I'm well-versed in the modesty side of the equation.
But in the last month or so, I've had some conversations with a couple of people who knew me "back in the day." Like, seriously, back in the day...high school and undergrad days. I feel like I was a *mess* then; no sense of who I was, fumbling through each day hoping the next one would get a little easier, second-guessing every word out of my mouth and every gesture, conscious and unconscious. You know, the usual teenage shit. What's funny though is in these conversations both people said they noticed my self-confidence. "One thing that struck me immediately all [those] moons ago in the [Berea College] library - u have a lot more self-confidence 'than other girls.'" (obviously a text conversation) and (thank goodness for FB message archives):
Fellow Farm Worker: "That means you know what you are doing! You always did too back in the day."
Me: "Lynn was a good teacher."
FFW: "I know you to be a hard worker. A plus."
FFW: "I know you to be a hard worker. A plus."
Me: "There is that...but there's also a lot of faking it. At least when it comes to looking like I know what I'm doing."
FFW: "Well, you fooled me."
Me: "Fooled lotsa people, that's what makes me laugh about it."
FFW: "But you always seemed to know what the heck you were doing..."
Really?!? Seriously?! BahahaHAHAahahaa!!
It is reinforced to me nearly every day how much that farm taught me about, hell, damn near everything...self-confidence, customer service, work ethic, follow through, attention to detail, so many of the things that I count as a core skill. Off-topic, but I don't think I say thank you enough to the people there, never mind tell them how grateful I am that I have gotten to re-experience the farm as a growed-up (or at least as close a proximity of a growed-up as I will ever be). It is *so cool* to go back there and see the basics I learned nearly 25 years ago are still taught and still work.
I remember going to PCO (Prospective Commanding Officers) School as a PCO for the first time before I went to Bahrain...so early 2008...and having one of the other students in the class comment on my "command swagger." I think that too had to do with acting like I knew what I was doing.
Now that we've established that I really don't know what I'm doing, and most times it's all an act (which I've written about before), what does all that have to do with my situation now? Well, most all the other Reviewers and Budget Coordinators I've talked to about our job say basically the same thing...none of us know exactly how this job is supposed to go, what we're supposed to be doing or the best way to get it done. In a way that's very comforting, to know I'm not the only one who is just kind of stumbling through each day, hoping I'm getting it right.
One part of this not-knowing-exactly-what's-going-on feeling that is finally starting to sink in with me is that if I think something needs to be done -- it probably *does* and I should just go ahead and do it before a) someone else tells me to do it or b) it doesn't get done because no one else notices it needs attention. But that's not the only part that's kind of weird. It's also that it's part of my job to be proactive. Shoot, no, that's not right...Is it that I have enough of a sense of things (from experience, smarts, or just common sense?) to recognize when something is going to be an issue? Maybe so, and maybe that's weird because the knowing it needs attention, combined with the autonomy to do what needs to be done without having to ask for permission every time...wow, that's just a different kind of job. And it requires a certain amount of ego-based self-possession and motivation to be that kind of proactive.
Yeah, so that's where the balance comes in. I saw a former CO at HQ a few weeks ago for the first time in a while. He knows what office I'm in and cautioned me to "not get caught up in the mystique of the job." Fantastically excellent advice. Because the self-confidence the job absolutely demands must be tempered with the humility to keep it all in perspective...lest Murphy (likely in the guise of an ADM or CAPT or XO) come along with a powerful smack-down.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Loyalty
My faithful reader, Azulao asked me to ponder loyalty in a comment a few weeks ago. So here I ponder...
I have worked for bosses before that I felt disloyal to for whatever reason. Different leadership styles, different personalities, perspectives, whatever, have made it difficult to work for them. So this is not my first time toeing a line which I would rather draw another way. And certainly, these days, I'm still living it on a daily basis. There is an issue being debated right now that goes to the very core of one of my hard-learned, deeply-rooted institutional beliefs. Do we pay for it or not? Every atom of every molecule of every cell of every muscle and organ and bone in my body screams, yes, we ABSOLUTELY *MUST* pay for it. But the Boss has a different priority.
Gulp.
"Aye, aye, sir."
And back I go to the drawing board for a stronger argument to use next time.
I think a lot of loyalty issues, both in my world and in academia, come down to altitude (tee hee...sorry). Or put another way by Chris McGoff in The Primes, "Big Hat-Little Hat." The Big Hat is worn by the Boss, looking at things from a 3,000 foot level (warning: I suck at aviation metaphors, so my apologies if I get the numbers wrong...you should get the point anyway). The Little Hat is worn by the individual projects/programs/departments, looking at things from, if not the flight deck, than at least a low hover (see, better if we include a shipboard reference). Detail versus big picture; scope versus intricacy. Neither one is wrong or right, just different. And both have their necessary place.
Amusingly, I have an anecdote on nearly this very issue from today. I was in a meeting (shocker), trying to lead a couple of programs to the trough of shared responsibility. I think I even got them to drink...after pushing their heads into the water and forcing their lips open, figuratively speaking (seriously though, did we have to go Slide.By.Slide to make a decision?). But as the thirst for resolution to a common problem was slaked, one of the program reps decided to make a snarky remark about being forced to share the trough with yet a third program. Now I always know at least a second or two beforehand, when I'm gonna to say something I'm likely to, if not regret, at least wonder what the hell made me say it out loud. I got that feeling, and then said, "Sir, one team, one fight...we're all on the same side here." There was a moment of awkward silence from the other O4s and O5s in the room, and then the conversation moved on. But *really,* we (collectively, me included) spend too much time hidebound in our own opinions and tiny little worlds. I think there's another entire post on this little concept of being stuck in our comfort zone...but I'll leave it for another time.
But referring back to The Primes, I'll quote Chris's recommendation (pg 145-146 in my 2011 version published by Victory Publishers, NYC, NY):
"1. It's a right-versus-right dilemma, as opposed to right-versus-wrong.
2. The implicit dichotomy of this PRIME can't be eliminated, only managed.
3. People need to be clear about which hat they're wearing when they speak.
4. It's fair to advocate for your LITTLE HAT but not to the detriment of the whole."
I think that there is a major difference between the military, especially the Coast Guard and the academic world. That is, the CG has a well-defined, concrete goal...whichever mission an individual joined to be a part of, search and rescue, law enforcement, national security, environmental protection...all we Coasties have a common goal. One Team, One Fight.
I'm not sure the same can really be said of academia. What really is the goal of Universities? Is it teaching the students? The research being done? The prestige/reputation of the institution? Pleasing alumni with a popular sports program? Without that baseline commonality, people's interest diverge quickly and divisively into little kingdoms of influence which continually battle over the same resources.
A, I have no idea if I even came close to what you were talking about. I think it comes down to the fact that you have to believe in something to be loyal to it.
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