It is dark out

According to East Coast time – it was 1930 when I went to bed last night. Add a nice round six hours to that and you will know why I was hardly able to find the light switch as I staggered into bed.

And then I woke up a few hours later. It was 0245 in the freaking morning. But my body claimed that it was 0845 and I was late.

The place has free internet! But since I was completely brain dead, nothing useful came of it. Finished up the Dante Valentine book I was reading [Lilith Saintcrow] and went off to a full day exerice on Edgewoood.

We will skip the part about following the other vehicle which happily turned left at an intersection through the end of the yellow leaving me behind. And the following hour where I tried to locate them on the base before giving up, going back to the hotel and getting a email printout listing the building number.

(I will continue to wonder why no one in the HQ had a clue as to where we were holding this. No one, it seems, of any importance comes to work before 0900).

Foolish me, thinking that if my organization was paying for and running an exercise that included a number of out of town players, I might let the staff duty officer in on the secret.

I skipped dinner to crash.


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About Holly

fiber person - knitter, spinner, weaver who spent 33 years being a military officer to fund the above. And home. And family. Sewing and quilting projects are also in the stash. After living again in Heidelberg after retiring (finally) from the U.S. Army May 2011, we moved to the US ~ Dec 2015. Something about being over 65 and access to health care. It also might have had to do with finding a buyer for our house. Allegedly this will provide me a home base in the same country as our four adult children, all of whom I adore, so that I can drive them totally insane. Considerations of time to knit down the stash…(right, and if you believe that…) and spin and .... There is now actually enough time to do a bit of consulting, editing. Even more amazing - we have only one household again. As long as everyone understands that I still, 40 years into our marriage, don't do kitchens or bathrooms. For that matter, not being a golden retriever, I don't do slippers or newspapers either. I don’t miss either the military or full-time clinical practice. Limiting my public health/travel med/consulting and lecturing to “when I feel like it” has let me happily spend my pension cruising, stash enhancing (oops), arguing with the DH about where we are going to travel next and book buying. Life is good!
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