Back in the sandbox again

I'm back in the sandbox and I can not wait until this contract is over! Drama, bitching and more paperwork all around. That almost feels like enough said. I've been told not to put the company in a bad light, but does anyone know what company I work for??? Bueller? Bueller? No you don't because I never said. And unless you work with me or I nagged you until you applied and were hired on, you don't care. All you want is the details...Life in Afghanistan. Who voluntaily works in a war zone without a reason. It's not like I woke one morning and said, Gee, I think working under fire and threats sounds like fun. I think I will go to a war zone! No, It's about a job and money and add a little adventure for me and a chance to tell my own stories around the family pool table.

I originally wrote this blog to keep family and friends abreast of my goings on and it took off. I'm glad people want to know what happens here in contract-land and are willing to read me. Thank you. I do feel as if I am doing my patriotic duty and sharing a side of war that most would never guess at. I know you all want the gory details that I don't submit...really, why worry my Mom. But somedays I would almost prefer to write about the guts and courage of our soldiers. They are amazing! But that is not my story to tell. I am a support worker for the military and I am called a contractor.

Coming back was like a splash of icy cold water. I so remember why I did not miss the joint. More crap.... You can't please all of the people. Today, you can't please any of them. We live surrounded by walls that we may never pass through. It's mostly like being in jail with specific times to work and eat, times to shower. No real time to socialize, so we Skype a bit or maybe Facebook when we get a minute. Today, I was extremely worried of a friend's illness, did I get a "thanks for your concern?" Nope I got a freaked out ear full. I'm in a war zone. People act uncaracteristically hostile at the oddest moments. I get it. I went to read my emails from the time I was gone. I couldn't get them at home- Thank you God! All I read was disrespect for the medics over and over. Ok, so we are pea brain non-secretarial nincompoops, but I shutter at the no names/no brains that were promoted to a position to abuse the underlings. We get no respect.

On my return, I had the ultimate pleasure of meeting a man that the employees are calling the HR guru. God, (or the owner of the company) heard our cries. We now have a voice or at least a chance to vent. Respect or a kind word is just around the corner, I am hopeful. Life may resolve and be good again...Yippee! We work in the sandbox, but we should never be talked to or be treated like dirt. We shall see...