It's all in the Scale...

My eyes opened at 5AM, and I wondered why I thought that was OK.  Then I realized that even though I'd set my alarm for 6:00, it was a good thing I'd wakened early.  I'd forgotten I had to be at work in the wee hours to listen to a military training on "The Repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell".   The training was something else to sit through.  An hour of information that should never have had to be to be passed in the first place.  OK.  I get that the military has had taboo's against gay/lesbian relationships for what seems like forever, but I never knew anyone who really cared about them...that was unless they were getting ready to be kicked out of the military because of them.  From the time I was an E-1, I worked alongside gays and lesbians and never thought much of it.  People are people, and as long a those people work and play well with others I never cared about their sexual preferences.  It was interesting at this training to hear that in the upcoming policy, military personnel who have objections to serving with gays/lesbians in the military will be given the option to apply for an early release from the military, while gays/lesbians who have been dismissed from the military will be given the option to return to the military.  The first option, I don't understand.  The second option, I do.  The first one allows a military person who's always known they've served along side people with different sexual preferences (who just couldn't "tell about it" ) to leave the military, while the second tries to right an injustice that shouldn't have occurred in the first place.  For an hour, that was my morning...sitting in a small theater with my shipmates, listening to training on a new upcoming policy and thinking all the while about both how fast and how slow the military changes.

The rest of my day was spent preparing for the MED-IG inspection and Joint Commission survey, in between signing time cards and dealing with patient problems and communication issues with our clinic phone line.  At some point I try to be optimistic and think, "It's gotta get better....", but so far, the frustrations, the complications, the hold-ups and the interminable delays, problems and funding issues only seem to get worse.  I hope things get better soon.  Maybe I'll see a part of the rainbow bridge come charging in to rescue me at the end of the week, and I'll have a chance to jump on the road to Asgard. At least for the weekend.  It will be a stressful 5, now 4, days until then.

Coming home this evening, I made my frequent "decompress" stop at the Ventura Harbor.  There are usually surfers out at one of the jetty's taking on the incoming curling waves with their short boards, but not today.  Today the sea was rough, unruly and filled with froth and inner turbulence.  Only one lone wind-surfer was battling the angry gusts in a small secluded cove where people usually practice paddle boarding and small craft sailing.  He was brave one.

I puffed on a 5-Vegas while the wind whipped my hair around, and I half conversed (texting) with a fellow forensic nurse about an article we are co-writing together as a team. (Thank you so much, Pat!).  Actually, she's done most of the writing and I'm doing some reference checks, but so far she's been kind enough to put my name on the paper.  Publishing at least once a year is a desirable thing, especially for a forensic nurse/researcher.  It keeps us up to date, and competitive, in the professor, expert witness/ subject matter expert market.  It doesn't pay, or help me get a 6 figure salary, but it builds a reputation that might lead to job security (or not) in the long run.

Pelican's flew in formation over my head against the gust's of wind (I never look up just in case), and there was barely a cloud in the bright blue sky, as I looked over the sea.  My dissertation proposal is still looming over me, so I didn't spend a lot of time there, but instead finished off the smoky stick and headed home.  On the way back towards the house, the 'low gas' light came on and taunted me with its glow on the dash, and I sighed.  Tomorrow I'll fill the tank with another $60.00 worth of fuel.  Bicycling to work would look good if I didn't have to get up so darn early, and didn't leave work so tired, so late.  Ah well.  Tomorrow is another day.  Maybe, if I'm lucky, gas prices will have dropped.  What are the odds?

~Cin