Strapped to an Unguided Rocket

That pretty much describes my feeling at work for the past couple of weeks. We're getting down to the wire on our transformation from one type of organization and mission to another. And we're still trying to define what the new organization(s) will be, and what their mission(s) will be. Meanwhile, the "execute" order is looming large. So I've been quite the Powerpoint Ranger lately, preparing briefings on things that may or may not come to pass, outlining options, writing memos and executive summaries, and never quite sure where it's all going. Just like being strapped to a rocket with no tail fins.

Our network problems are gradually getting resolved. After having three guys work on my computer, trying to find all my old emails, finally somebody came along that knew what he was doing. He found and restored them in about five minutes. He's my hero. The rest of the network stuff is still a problem, but gradually, slowly, getting resolved. There's another command that moved with us, though, and I hear that their problems are much worse than ours. They have their own IT guys, so I'm not going to worry too much about them.

We had a bit of an emergency over the past couple of days. One of our people had some medical symptoms that came on very suddenly and sounded serious. I got him over to the medical facility, who very quickly transferred him to a bigger one, and he's going home today. Looks like he may have some serious heart problems - and in going over his condition, I wonder, just how the hell did he get out here? After a triple bypass, five stints, diabetes, and being about 75 pounds overweight to boot? What clown screened him?

Yesterday a couple of us went over to the medical facility, where he'd spent the night, to pick him up. There were three Iraqi detainees in there, too. Two were older gents who were fairly quiet. The other was a younger boy who was asleep. All three were strapped down to their beds. Our guy said that the detainees kept throwing things at everybody in the ward all night long. Frankly, I was quite impressed with how our young American guards handled them - these kids were maybe 20 years old, very professional, and totally calm. Whenever one of the detainees did something (sometimes obviously just to get a reaction), the guards never flinched, never got excited, and responded respectfully. When I think back to when I was about 20, I don't know that I'd have had that maturity.

So now it's time to head back to work and get strapped to that unguided rocket again. Wonder what'll happen today.