Frenchie

I think my other roommate finally ran out of steam.  The bad news is that she restocked on energy this morning when she was still not awake when I left the room at 945.  She finally made it to work around noon and it looked like she had just completed her daily trip to the Post Office.  As soon as she arrived, she dropped off her new boxes and left to get a snow cone.  By the time she finally got settled into work and found it necessary to talk to my boss, he had already left for lunch and she was rushing to get information.  Her product was turned in late, but what can you expect when you don’t get to work until after noon because you have been up most of the night prior.  It must be nice to be a COL.

It is a beautiful sunny day outside and I was just informed that the soccer field received new goals.  I could not jump for joy any higher.  Please note my sarcasm, and if you do not understand, you haven’t read enough of my blog posts. 

The new LT attacked the office once again.  This time he decided the TV was too fuzzy.  He dismounted the TV from its corner home, cut a large hole in the plywood mount, remounted the TV, plugged everything back in, and VOILA, crystal clear television.  What part did I play in all this?  I played the role of dumb blonde and retrieved power tools from the Medical Logistics Company.  The LT did not want to gather the tools for his project because he said the Soldiers were mean to him on his last visit to borrow tools.  I wandered my way over to their place of business and talked with a very nice NCO who not only gave me every power tool I requested, but taught me how to use them, made sure I had all necessary adapters, and took an additional ten minutes to search for nuts and bolts that I may or may not require for my project.  I am pretty sure he was on the verge of asking to do the project for me.  When I returned to the office and told everyone how nice they were to me, they looked at me like I was insane.  Oh well, at least the project is done. 

I don’t think the LT had  enough demolition worked out of his system because the next time I saw him he was ripping shelving off the walls with a crowbar and a hammer in the supply NCO’s office.  I have a feeling that when he is done renovating this building, we aren’t going to want to leave.   Well, we will want to leave, but we will have just gotten comfortable with our work environment.

I am thinking about getting a French Bulldog when I get home.  What do you think?