Categories
navy personal

A Short Update on Separating from the Navy

There was a time when I didn’t think I’d make it to the other side of the US Navy. It wasn’t even that long ago.

After you’ve been doing one thing for so long – even if it’s something you hate – it becomes comfortable and familiar. As time goes on, it becomes harder and harder to separate yourself from it. To make matters more complicated, the Navy makes a point of invading every part of your life, both personal and professional. (I was also pretty depressed and thought the Navy might have the decency to kill me so I wouldn’t have to do it myself. But, spoiler alert: I don’t feel this way anymore!) So after eight years, it got really hard to envision a life outside of the Navy, much less one chasing my dreams. Was it going to be a mistake to turn my back on a reliable paycheck? Would I be able to find a job, and balance work and school at the same time? Will my benefits come through and will they be enough to support me?

The separation process is probably stressful under normal circumstances. It was doubly stressful working with one of the Navy’s worst admin departments during a global pandemic. Somehow, though, after months of sleepless nights and grinding my teeth and frantic phone calls, it all came together. My property was scooped up, my vehicle shipped; the paperwork never really got done done, but it was good enough. On July 31st, I was a civilian again. I got on a plane and went home.

At the time I’m writing this, it’s been less than a month since I separated, and I feel like I’ve been the recipient of a series of miracles. Things fell into place better than I could have imagined in my wildest, most hopeful dreams. I feel happy and energized and motivated in a way that I haven’t felt for a very long time – but it was the result of taking a big, scary step into the unknown, away from the unpleasant but familiar. Hard brake, pivot; start over.

Sometimes things turn out in ways that you can’t anticipate. I guess the risk is that things could be better or worse or even just completely unexpected. For what it’s worth, I’m so glad that the darkness of uncertainty didn’t completely close me off from the possibility of hope for a better life outside of the Navy. Or, at least, it didn’t stop me from throwing myself out of my comfort zone and believing it could turn out okay. It turned out better than okay.

Categories
navy nerd stuff

BOAT JOB THING EXPLAINER

I recently read Thing Explainer by Randall Munroe of the xkcd/What If? fame. It’s interesting (and often hilarious) that using simple terms does not always lead to clearer understanding. Specificity can be pretty important, especially technically speaking. But the book is a lot of fun. As Munroe says in the introduction, using only the most common words in the English language eliminates the fear of sounding stupid.

So, in the spirit of Thing Explainer and sounding stupid, here is a description of my job in the Navy using xkcd’s simple writer and only the most common 10,000 words in English.

I fix the boat’s kill stick-blocker system. The system has computers with a lot of boxes. Each side of the boat has a box way up high for listening to things that send out radio waves. These listening-boxes can send out radio waves too but that might break the thing out there that we’re listening to. We can look at the numbers from the radio waves on the looking-box in the dark control room. The looking-box shows us where the radio wave sender is and what it might be. People who aren’t kill stick-blockers aren’t supposed to know these numbers, but it’s not hard to find them if you really want to.

Kill sticks move very fast. If one of these hits the boat, there would be fire and a lot of people would die and it would be a very bad day. The listening-box looks for radio waves from the kill sticks and uses computers to send those numbers to the looking-box. If we see those numbers, we have to do something about it. This might mean sending radio waves back at it, or hiding in light metal clouds, or sending off another stick with its own radio waves. There are people on the boat who can use special guns to shoot down the kill stick when it is very close, but this is hard to do when the kill stick is moving two or three times faster than sound.

Once in a while, the smaller computers turn off for some reason or the listening-box has a problem. It’s my job to find out why. Sometimes this means going outside when it is very dark and the boat is moving side to side a lot. Sometimes this means sitting in front of the looking-box for a very long time. Sometimes it means being outside in the sun and looking at all of the computer-boxes inside the listening-box. It is usually on these days that the old coffee-drinking man yells at us a lot and shows us what we’re doing wrong. I like these days the best. Most of the time, though, my job is to keep the boxes clean and check them to make sure they’re ready.

Thank you to DW (very smart kill stick-blocker friend) for thinking of “fast kill stick” when I was having trouble simplifying “missile.”