Wednesday, March 26, 2008

C*R*S*

you know what that means, Or if you don't; and are as old as I am, It stands for
I Can't Remember Sh*T

So that is the basis of this blog entry. I wanted to post a comment on a fellow blogger's site. But Because of CRS, I was unable to accomplish the task given that I fail to remember the blogger password, (Swirling round my nugget with all the other passwords and other debris that the Navy, NMCI, NKO, and Internet require to have at any given moment.)
I am still in the labor pains of getting OUT of the Navy.
Yesterday, in the TAP (Transition Assistance (Heavy Sarcasm on the Assistance part)Program) Class that I am currently attending. I happened upon a good sea Story, at most places that sea stories are born, the smoke pit/butt kit/ you fill in the blank.
A Master Chief Petty Officer of my rate and a good Friend; is speed dialing PDS, BUPERS and other agencies to get his Sh*t together to make it out of the gate in a few weeks.
He then looks at me, Puffs a smoke and states:
" If I am a Master Chief, A COB, and have been in this long and know all this, YET, I don't have everything I need to get out."
What the F**k does Seaman Snotgobbler who only has a few years in do??

My Reply
Exactly.

The System is broke.

They do everything that they can to retain a mirror fogging individual to keep the numbers and manning up and alive.
But when it is your turn to get out after HONORABLE service. No matter the length of time. You have a headache just short of a Critique.

Comments and Observations welcome.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I was ready to get out. I had been to TAP (TWICE! - and I found it helpful, but Groton has a pretty good program), I had done all of my checkout sheet - well, some of it I gaffed off, because I just didn't care, and took all my shit down to PSD. The lady behind the counter takes all of my stuff, and looks through it. blah blah blah form, check. yadda yadda yadda form, check. this form, check, that form, check. Wait a minute, you don't have your umpty-umph form. You're supposed to fill that out 90 days before you get out. You're not going anywhere. This can't be avoided." I said, "What form? what are you talking about? Nobody told me about another form?" She looked perturbed, as if she'd heard this a gazillion times. "Didn't you go to TAP?" I smiled at her and said "Why yes I did." "Well you must have missed that day." "So, I missed 'that' day BOTH times I went, 9 months ago, and six months ago." Her face went from perturbed to "oops". "I think whoever was supposed to show up and give us that information didn't." I looked her in the eye. "OK, OK, hold on. Just have a seat." She came back with a form, which of course wanted information that was on all the other bazillion forms I had filled out. "The information you want is here on this form, and this form, can't you just use these?" "No, becuase those are for the umptyfratz, and this form is for umptysquat." "Fine." I filled it out and gave it to her. She took it and disappeared. A few minutes later she came back, withthe form signed and put it in my pile, where it had to go in just the right spot in the stack. "You're all set." Then I said the wrong thing. "So why does that form take 90 days, again." She ignored my question. "I'm sure you're looking forward to retirement, and don't want to be delayed..." I took the hint and left.