Don’t Go Away Mad in General

We could sail away
Or catch a freight train
Or a rocketship into outer space
Nothin’ left to do
Too many things were said
To ever make it feel
Like yesterday did
Seasons must change
Separate paths, separate ways
If we blame it on anything
Let’s blame it on the rain
I knew it all along
I’d have to write this song
Too young to fall in love
Guess we knew it all along…

Dr. Feelgood came out right after I graduated AOCS and started flight school in 1989. I was separated from X1.

I remember the phone calls and demands and her telling me “how it was going to be.”

Leaning over the balcony rail in the Pensacola BOQ I remember singing, under my breath of course: “Don’t go away mad, just go away.”

Break, break.

Official offer came in. A little low ball, but reasonable and of course I accepted. About ½ what I would be making in the DC area. 3x what most people make in Maine.

Oh! The tedium starts.

I had an hour-long conversation with Chris. Then he sent me the official offer, along with the benefits package. And another email with a background check link, and a notification that their medical would be getting in touch with me.

I printed out the offer. And the benefits package.

Then went into the background check link.

What a fucking pain in the rump roast. Every step of the way they needed to send me confirmation codes to my iPhone to prove it was me.

Half the forms were filled out. Comically, my Navy history showed me as a Naval officer and the country of employment as “Ireland.”

I guess my great grandmother would be proud to know I served in the Irish navy. Wait. Does Ireland even have a Navy?

Of course, I have gaps in employment. So, every time I hit “send” a bunch of flags popped up. I used their silly pulldowns to fill in excuses. “Unemployed.” “Retired.” “In School.”

Odd there wasn’t an option for “Nunya.” As in “Nunya fucking business.”

I also LinkedIn everyone I have met since I started this process. I’m not in LinkedIn. I have a profile, because X2 accidentally invited me. But I haven’t updated anything in 13 years.

I know everything about everyone I will be working for except how many pimples they have on their ass, and that doesn’t interest me.

So another week at least.

Whew. What a process.

But it isn’t like I haven’t been through a few processes. I guess I am getting impatient as I age.