Basically, I got here in time to tag out Dr. Dave and Todd on their way to the playa. They are taking the trip I wanted to take - arrive in Afghanistan mid-july, depart around this time for Reno, have someone waiting for me in BRC with my stuff. Like a rockstar.
Fortunately, I found gainful employment (in the nick of time, truly) at one of my favorite institutions in the world, and I am very fortunate that I could even be here, that my PI is so very flexible. Jbad-to-playa-to-first-day-of-work would have been kind of hard on the brain and bod, even without a passenger. Perhaps it is good fortune that my flights of folly were not so entertained. Still. BRC. Home...
"I can't believe you guys are leaving for the Burn. I'm so jealous."
"I'm jealous you get to STAY."
"Bullshit."
I am really going to miss these guys. Not only for their good company, but for their experience and their tentacles in the social network here. With Todd and Dave gone, it's like half of my network going dark.
I awaken this morning to sounds of rain, and flashes of thunderstorms. Its lovely, and I'm tempted to kill the fan to get the full audio-visual suite of effects - the wind and patter and lightshow and booms. But I decide against it. It's still hotter than hell and my windows dont open.
Within a few hours, Todd is knocking to say his goodbyes. I offer to make a pot of coffee from my Peet's stash to see them off, and to check out my new digs. We have an agreement - that when Todd bugs out I get the comm room.
It's upstairs next to the leaseholder's suite - directly beneath the satellites and home to the sat modem and routers - basically the nerve center of the Taj. It's where Ken the IT Genius stays when he is here, and was Todd the Supernerd's in his absence. Now that the Synergy Strike Force fulltimers are playa bound, the comm room is mine. Reason being, in the remaining company of rotarians, USAID treehuggers, their security, afghan houskeepers, and National Guardswoman, I may be the one best qualified to troubleshoot if the internet shits the bed. This is not a comforting thought. At all.
Mehrab, the manager, is surprised that I am moving to this room voluntarily. "The noise!" he says.
I am heartened to find, upon arriving upstairs, that Dave and Todd are migrating the modest Taj arsenal from the leaseholders suite to the comm room. Yes. Yes yes yes. The amount of radiation in to which we are exposed in here might not be great for the baby, but hey. If there is actually anything resembling a real problem, having a closet full of AKs will be AWESOME for the baby, I'll tell you what.
I can't wait for Tim, our security specialist, to get here.
Maybe I'll go for a swim in the scintillating pool downstairs. Possibly the cleanest water for miles. Not potable with all that chlorine but germ free, you betcha.
No comments:
Post a Comment