its all about me, really...

SNAFUs, TARFUs and FUBARs just about summarizes the world we live in.

Name:
Location: Bukit Panjang, Singapore

Be gracious to one and all.

Monday, October 02, 2006

-pant pant-

Gee, it's been a long long time since I posted anything.

Just an update. Currently, I'm on course at OETI in Ayer Rajah Camp. The course I'm attending is the Advanced Technical Training. Participants in this particular course are supposedly to be the ones next in line for promotion to the rank of MSG. Not monosodium-glutemate but Master Sergeant. The very top of the food chain among the Specialists cohorte.

Well, I'm supposed to be happy, elated, overjoyed but somehow none of these emotions seemed to get to me. The reason? I'm sure some of you guys already know, I'm going ORD next year June. So why the hell am I attending this course for? Reason is because I'm getting so so slack in my unit, practically rotting my brain away. I'm like devouring at least one thriller novel every one and a half weeks. I'm running out of novels to buy and read.

So, going for this course has its good, and of course, bad points. OETI stands for Ordnance Engineering Training Institute. But most of the graduands from my time affectionately call it "Only Eat Talk and Idle". Just because that's precisely what we do most of the time there back during our days when we were just Corporals. But OETI has evolved very much. It has won and attained numerous ISO and Organisational Excellence awards and standards. It is also a recognised People Developer organisation. -phew- Ok, enough advertising for OETI.

In my class of 21 students, only one of my colleague and myself are Staff Sergeants. The rest of the class have just passed out from BMT School. So they are the greenhorns. Its a little stressful gel'ing in at first but I guess establishing a common level of communication across generation gaps take time.

But anyway, at least I get to evade my unit's upcoming LRI. The Logistic Readiness Inspection. LRIs and Audit checks get on our nerves but these were the stuffs we were trained to handle. It's a do or die kinda thing. 'Die' as in being passed over during promotions. Also, I get to evade being the one to settle the WITs project. Another colleague was supposed to be in charge of that but somehow the facilitator always liked to get hold of me for it. Here's another piece of nonsense. WITs stand for Work Improvement Team. Think in the sense of QCC and all that kinda stuff. But I tend to think WITs stand for Wasting Individual Time.

At the end of it all, I think there's more good than bad points for me to attend the course. -grin-
But it's quite hectic though. Non-stop lessons in front of the PC doing Computer Based Training packages. The 'Z-monster' is always lurking somewhere behind, ready to pounce on me whenever I let my guard down.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

stray dogs' life.

My unit was the organiser of the Sheare's Bridge Run & Army Half Marathon which was held on Sunday, 27th August.

Being a member of my unit, being involved in the logistical preparations was natural. The role that me and my guys (22 of them) were playing ? The main logistic team's support force. It simply meant we were dogs. Unwanted stray dogs, and I'm the leader of the pack.

My team and i had to report to the area just opposite the Esplanade on Sat 1400hrs and we were supposed to be under the command of this particular CPT (Captain), let's call him CPT G. The main logistic team consisted of 3 main officers. Namely, CPT G, CPT D and CPT T. Each one of them was supposed to be in charge of different areas. (Note, the keyword here is "supposed".) CPT G's team and us were in charge of setting up the area for bag deposit.

In this organisation, the work culture is: work as hard and fast as we can, without compromising safety to others or ourselves, and then we can get a breather.

Not true. Well not at least for that day.

We worked our asses off unloading the equipments from the 5 tonner trucks, setting up the bag deposit counters and got the whole bag deposit procedure worked out and conducted trials to see if it worked. We took 3 hours to complete this task. Thereafter, I thought we could have a break, but no. Remember the keyword "supposed" ? We were supposed to be having our break but CPT T had to come and spoil our fun. Now we were to go help out CPT T's guys pack the goodie bags. Ok. No problem. We worked our spare asses off again. It was 1900hrs when we completed packing.

Dinner time right ?

Wrong again! We gotta help CPT D's guys load up the goodie bags into the 5 tonner trucks cos there's no storage area for the ten over thousands of them goodie bags. What's up with these officers nowadays. Don't they know where to draw the line ?

My guys and I were practically kicked between CPT G, D and T. That's why I said we felt like stray dogs. I personally believe even the most unlucky stray dog lead a much better life.

We worked and we WORKED! from Sat 1400hrs right up till 2045hrs when we had our dinner break till 2245hrs. Then it's back to work and more work from Sun 0100hrs right up till 1500hrs non-stop. This was worse than Basic Military Training.

And here's the clincher: I'm to attend a forklift operator course the next morning.

I was on the verge of tearing our my hair. The only consolation I had were the support that my 22 guys gave me.

This was only the Army Half Marathon. I'd hate to think what it would be like next year when it's my unit's turn to organise the National Day Parade.

Gee, then again, why not? Anyway, I won't be in the organisation by then!

Ariba! -Yuk yuk yuk-

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Sir Klinz Victorious

Just had a shower and I headed to the kitchen for a drink when I heard the crinkling of plastic wrapper.

Some primate instinct told me it ain't caused by those that roamed about during this period of the year. I switched on the light and I focused around the kitchen. The only things that could have given off that crinkling sound would be from the small waste bin on my kitchen sink which was solely meant for 'wet trash'. But there was nothing inside. It was a freshly changed plastic bag.

I moved the bin.

And there was it. A lizard. A fully grown one too.

I was determined to either catch it, chase it away, torture it or exterminate it. Since I was free, I chose the first option. I decided that if it irritated me too much, I'd move on to the third, followed by the fourth option. I will never ever chase it away because, THEY KEEP COMING BACK! The little creepy bastards.

Lizards are afraid or rather, they do whatever they can to avoid contact with water. They lose their stickiness grip on watery surfaces. Therefore, my strategy is pretty simple. A cup of water on my left hand, a piece of cloth on my right hand. I cleared the kitchen top of most of the bulky items, for eg, microwave oven, kettle, etc etc. Then, its showtime.

Since I kept most of the movements to a minimum, that creepy crawly stayed put, as if unsure of what I was going to do. That was when Sir Klinz struck. A splash of water on the area just behind the tail and it headed straight into my already waiting cloth, held in my right hand. I had a good mind to squeeze it between my fatty right hand but somehow, I just didn't do it. Instead, I bought a first class seat for it on Sir Klinz airline and the flight took off through my kitchen window. (Pun intended)

So I had to clean up the place since my bright idea included the use of water. When I was almost done, the cloth in my right hand brushed against a corner behind the microwave oven and guess what. Yep! An all too familiar looking little head peeked out. It seemed that I might have disturbed its slumber. Before it could recover, I took advantage of the element of surprise and I used the cloth to catch it in one fell swoop. And I bellowed out a series of monstrous sounding laughter. Since the only flight in Sir Klinz airline is out, this sleepy creepy crawly had to be flown by hand. Literally speaking.

I guess bagging two creepy crawlies in less than half an hour must have been a record.

Oh well, I gotta crash.