Thursday, June 28, 2007

the pain of technology gaps

i just want everyone to know that i have tried to log on to post several times in the past week, and this is the first time that i have logged in successfully. I am trying to post more often, but keep in mind that i live in a third world country and we are in the 120 degree range right now. I have been cutting out a lot of sleep lately to avoid moving around outside of my CHU during anytime that the sun is up. unfortunately i work during the day so that is putting a cramp in my style. the "state of the art" body armor is once again a large george foreman grill and i find that spending more than five minutes in indirect sunlight is getting unbearable. we still arent to the hottest days of the summer. water conservation has reached a peak, and the showers have been shut off for 3 days now. let me tell you about that. first of all, i work around people that smell like they havent showered since bible times, but, then, to have myself and co-workers join in on the whole chirade, its almost more than my worn phyche can handle.
i am wholly exhausted. this is my least favorite time of the deployment. it never changes, and never fails. i am so tired that it hurts. sometimes i try to sleep, but no matter how long i sleep i still wake up tired. i wonder to myself what we are doing here, sometimes its clear, other times it is shrouded in the haze that blankets this country. indisciminate options rise from the desert floor and then shimmer and fade like the heat baking this war to an unfavorable end. I wish that i could look into the future and see if the work we are putting in here will eventually pay off, or if it is just futile investment in an unstable and shaky future.
i love you all and hope that somehow i find the motivation to keep going in this heat. Dad, i still have a bunch of otter-pops, and those really help give me a momentary burst of motivation...make me feel like a kid again.



Bob said...

Hey, Drew-

This post really grabbed me. If there was a way that I could drop some kind of magic salve into the mail, I'd do it ... even if was $1,000 per pound to send it. Of course, you'd need to share. :-)

Man, for what it's worth, the toughest thing I ever had to do was raise my kids alone after their mom left in '92. It was impossible. Sad. Broken. Exhausted. Nothing left inside. Doesn't compare to what you're dealing with, but it's still the toughest thing I've had to do and I'm almost fifty now.

The only way I could survive it was to treat it like making I had to make it through a blizzard (blizzards and sandboxes have a lot in common right now, I'm thinking): You concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward ... eventually, you make it out the other side. You have no other choice, but you will survive the challenge. Honest.

Maybe that's just fake wisdom from the "cheap seats," but it's from the heart.

You'll make it, Drew. Lean on your family there and cherish them. You'll still value them when you're old like me. :)

Hang in there, Soldier. Hooah?

Patricia said...

Keep looking forward to the not so distant future of your homecoming...While it may not be the end of the war, it will be home for you!!! Cody can't wait to hang with you. He gets bigger everyday, 19 pounds already. I am getting some serious muscles! He can't crawl yet, but he is getting his tummy off the ground, and can roll all over the room...he has even started to pull himself up on things, exciting, but scary. He will be mobile soon, and terrorizing trigger and penny I am sure. WLY WMY Pete, Jason and Cody

Anonymous said...


I can't believe it has taken me so long to read your blog. You possess wisdom and experience far beyond your years. We here at home are awed by the sacrifice and diligence of you over there. Indeed most of us are full of questions about the war and waht it's outcome will be. But i have only sensed great admiration for people like you. I think you are the ones who will form the next generation of leaders in our country, and our world. May God bless you.

Tom Hovestol