Spent

At oh dark thirty, it’s tough to imagine being more exhausted. I’m at that time between a long, ineffective wakeup and the time when the coffee hits, and I am sorely tempted to head back to the rack and sleep the rest of the day. Hell, I’m already up. I’ll slog through another, and hope I can find an opportunity to recharge later on.


Not much email traffic on a Monday morning – only dealing with messages sent from the States on Sunday – so it’s not a total tragedy that the web is a dog this morning. It visibly disappoints some of the others nearby, who arrive alone or in twos, open their machines, stare at them for twenty minutes or so, and then pack up and shuffle off.

I’m often asked about the connection, since I seem to be on line, but few folks want to pay the five Euros an hour that I do to get connected. Most just take their licks and vow to return later.

I set up my early morning shop just outside of the Tim Horton’s, where my keyboard is illuminated by a streetlight from over my left shoulder and from the walk up window over the right. I could sit here in quiet frustration except for the connectivity questions, and the half dozen folks who ask “when does Tim Horton’s open?” By the time they do open the doors at 0600, there’s usually a dozen or two people in line. By 0800, the number of waiters is often tripled, as soldiers very politely queue, and chat, and hang out, and wait their turn.

I haven’t really figured out the why, as their coffee’s not that spectacular. Of course, at 0400, I’ll drink about anything, so I have been buying at the Green Bean, which is open all of the time. Green Bean coffee’s not spectacular, either, but it’s coffee when I need it. At Horton’s, or “Tim’s”, to those personally familiar with him, they have donuts. Not spectacular donuts, but donuts nonetheless, so I can understand why the Canooks are waiting in line. But the Bulgarians? Regardless, it’s the most popular place on the Boardwalk, and their cups and boxes fill the trash cans to overflowing on most mornings.

At 0600, I drop off my machine and head to chow at the Dutch DFAC, one of five (or maybe six), that reside at the KAF. Most of my crew will show up there eventually, and we can get started on the day – or restart for those of us up at 0400 – over a cup of some very nasty coffee that a machine spits out into non-insulated paper cups. It’s somewhat reminiscent of the machine coffee you find in truck stops (or outside of Iowa State University lecture halls) with the poker hands on them, but that coffee was much better. Whatever, I drink it anyway, as it will be the last cup I see until tomorrow.

Usually, the intensity of the work can keep me awake without further stimulants, but I’m starting to doubt my ability to pull this one off. If I can only make it through to 1800, there can be a nap. But there’s also the need to further coordinate the team at the end of the day. And I need to buy more time for the Dutch Net. And I have to stop at the PX for a new toothbrush, and get some chow, and probably spend some time at the gym.

And then complain about my lack of sleep tomorrow.