More change

Made it to R&R. The last two weeks have been such a back-and-forth of “to go or not to go” that I’m just emotionally exhausted trying to deal with it.

As I told Leila, I don’t think it’s stress, but it’s just that everything is up in the air and every time we think there’s a decision, something changes.

What seems like a couple of weeks ago but probably was maybe seven day, everyone at post thought the people who’d been sent home (or who haven’t made it out yet at all) would be back this week. That didn’t happen, which shocked everyone and crushed a few souls, I’m sure. Acting on the information they’d received, people had gotten flight tickets issued and had them in hand, only to learn that they wouldn’t be returning or would have to postpone their arrivals.

It threw a wrench into my R&R because with the assumption everything would go back to normal, I knew with a relative degree of certainty that I’d be able to head back to Baghdad but nothing went back to normal. As result, if we’re still in the same status, I won’t go back to Baghdad until it goes back to normal.

And I have no idea which scenario will play out, so, instead of just taking a little carry-on for a two-week tour, I had to prepare my apartment to pack out (again) and bring enough to where if I head to DC, that I would have clothes to wear to report to work.

It monkeyed up the packing for sure. I had set aside 15 of each vitamin I take daily, but given the possibility/probability of not returning, I couldn’t just leave the rest of them there. I had to pack them up and mail them to either Florida or Minsk, toss them, have them shipped to Minsk a different way, or take them with me. And multiply that by every bathroom item there is. Yeah, I’m taking a two-week vacation, but it could very well turn into a two-week vacation followed by 10-30 days in DC. How do you know how much to pack? I didn’t want to ship everything forward, because I can still very well return to post as originally planned. I didn’t want to leave all the stuff on the magic donation table, either, because I’d hate to get back to post and suddenly not have any OneADays.

In the end, I threw in three work outfits and about 2/3 of the toiletries; the rest are in still in my apartment with a “to donate” sign in case I don’t get back. It’s a plan.

Instead of my handy little carry-on bag, I have a gigantic, 50-pound suitcase. I’m going to be so popular on the tour. I look like a diva, except when you open what in there, it’s nothing glamorous. It’s just whole bars of soap and regulation-size toothpaste, plus all kinds of vitamins and medicines. Not much of most, but I didn’t want to condense them into smaller containers because, well, it’s probably not a good idea to carry around bunches of unidentified, random pills. Yeah, in the end, it can be proven they’re Vitamin D and Advil PMs, but that would be a really scary scene.

So for the second time this calendar year, I packed up my apartment. Since I had a little more time this time around, I bought souvenirs and stuff.  We have a little PX here, and they deal in USD, cash or credit. But not a lot of change. Instead, change comes in the form of these little pog-type disks that tend to pile up. I gathered together all of what I had and came up with about $2.50, so when I went to buy the souvenir T-shirt, I used them all. Well, except for one cardboard nickel that must have been hiding under something on my table. Found it the next morning. Of course.

My splurge on myself was a “Duck and Cover” little stuffed duck. We have weekly “D&C” drills, and, with the exception that the real drills have an alarm-tone prelude, sound exactly like this, if you turned the sound up 8000 percent. I think this little guy is just so cute. His name is Baghdaddy.

He’s crammed into a suitcase now, sitting in my pile of stuff in my apartment. I hope I can liberate him myself, but I’m not really hopeful about returning to Baghdad. I was for about 72 hours, but those 72 hours were alternated with about 48 of them knowing I wouldn’t return. The odds are even about now, I think.

Anyway, I’m on R&R now, although I haven’t done anything yet, not even meet up with the tour group. I think most everyone else must have met at the airport earlier or something; there’s an itinerary posted in the lobby that says I get a wake-up call tomorrow morning to get going.

Somehow, I wound up in business class on the way up and holy cow, that was so nice. I even managed to sleep a little bit, maybe three of the nine hours of the Doha-Cape Town flight.  I’d make a terrible diva, though, because I had a hard time adjusting to the “special” treatment. Even in Baghdad, they tried to offer me the lounge, but I’d ridden over with a couple of colleagues and I didn’t want to bail on them.

Once at the gate, the agent told me I should stand off to the side s I could board with the business class, and I told him I really didn’t care about boarding early and would just sit with the others, but he must not have believed I was serious. I was sitting down, reading a book, and he came up and said, “Business?” I got pranced through everyone, shoved to the front of the line and given deferential treatment. It felt weird, especially because there was only one other person in business class to Doha.

There were more on the longer-leg flight, but only one more in my little section. I felt like I had a private bathroom, even, because there were so few people using the two closest to me. I never had to wait, and I brushed my teeth twice. Although I brought my own toothbrush (with regulation-sized toothpaste), they had them available for us, and little shaving kits, too.

The seats were amazing, and reclined to flat so you could sleep, and, if you pushed the right combination of buttons, did a little massage thing. My own TV, about 13 inches, with real headphones, not just earbuds. On the Baghdad-Doha flight, I had an iPad with movies. Dinner was on demand and I ate early (my choice – seafood soup) so I could try to sleep, which I did a bit. They set the table, complete with a tablecloth (really cloth) and a battery-operated candle. I felt it was over the top but nice. I had a “mocktail” fake margarita complete salt but ginger ale instead of whatever alcohol is in a margarita. 

The little gift bag had a blindfold thing to shut out the light (although the windows were automatic and with them closed off it was dark enough), those flimsy socks, face spray (?), lip balm, ear plugs and hand lotion. The bag itself is a real brand name (there was a card discussing the company), as are the pajamas they gave us. Not kidding. They look prison-issue but not because they’re coarse; they’re just black and gray. Came in a little gift bag. I didn’t change into them, but the bathroom probably was large enough to do so.

The flights went fine and I cannot believe I have to return to coach for the trip back. Not a lot of fun. But in the meantime, I’m going to try to forget work and have fun on R&R.