Where is the Doctrinatrix?

Good question. I’m in the middle of preparing to depart Mother Rucker for the Intellectual Center of Nowhere, known as Fort Leavenworth. My own version of Hell is populated by endless levy briefings where they tell me everything I don’t need to know (about how to PCS to Germany) and nothing that I really do need to know (how to arrange for household goods pick up).

Aces.

So, between the levy briefs and clearing papers and the thrill of that last push to the end of my doctrine writing days (plus an APART thrown in for good measure), I’m off the net. If it makes you feel better, imagine me tooling around Sadr City in my trusty aircraft. Or you can imagine me toiling away at my desk in the Penthouse, slaving through chapter after chapter of aviation doctrine for my ruthless task masters.

More realistically, I’ll be chilling on Irish’s porch, discussing with her and Chicago the benefits of a pair of totally awesome 4 inch stilettos from Miu Miu.

Wish me luck. I’ll be back just as soon as they turn on the light at the end of the PCS tunnel… which I imagine happens after I turn in my clearing papers.

Day- Out- Night- Return Post: Army Moving Considerations

So the debate rages on between balancing sanity and potential for massive quantities of cash during a PCS move. Is it better to allow strangers to pack your belongings or do you think you can you really stave off the inevitable mental break down that comes with a DITY move? I find that this conundrum can be solved with asking yourself this question:

Am I okay with someone else finding my BOB** and wrapping it in packing material and putting it in a box labeled “kitchen items”?

If the answer is “yes,” go forth to the Transportation Office and ask for a standard PCS move.

If the answer is “no,” play a rousing game of Oregon Trail. 

In case you have never done a government move with government hired packers, rest assured that everything will be packed. Ev.er.y.thing! This is a blessing and a curse, people. Because while you really don’t have to lift a finger, things that you would normally throw away or not pack seem to end up wrapped in newsprint paper, stacked in a cardboard box, and then mislabeled on the inventory. Nalgene bottles (half full of water), trash cans (with trash still in them), coffee pot (with coffee and grinds)… when the transpo office informs you that the movers will pack everything, they mean it. And it all will be labeled with as Linens. Thus unpacking becomes a surprise every time!

For tonight’s example du jour: a friend's PCS discovery...

** BOB: battery operated buddy. Gentlemen, this is what your spouse invests in when you leave for Nosnatchistan Againistan.