What happens when I go home?

I have not written many posts regarding my deployment. That has actually been intentional. It isn't for a lack of great blog fodder, it is because I have a sensitive job and I would rather err on the side of caution than perhaps write about something that may compromise anyone. Don't get me wrong, I am not James Bond. But better to be safe than sorry.

That said, I have been doing a job that is pretty fricken useful for a lot of people. I have a purpose over here. Opinions on "big picture" aside, the folks that are here need what I am providing to them.

But what happens when I get home? I already knew going in that 90% of what I do at home is bullshit. I am working hard to try and reason it out in my head that I am putting effort into an AFSO21 meeting or some other such malarkey that can only be created by those who have no real mission and must justify their own existence with such drivel, because if I don't I will be unemployed.

I have been trying to build a mental bridge connecting something, ANYTHING, that I do day to day at home, that added any value to the service that I am providing here. I have found none. Nada. Zip. Believe me, I have REALLY looked. Even if just in some small way I could see that what I do back in the clinic directly impacts the mission I currently support. I used to be pretty good at finding that link. Explaining it to the young Airman who worked for me and paint a picture for them about how what they are doing that day adds value to the big picture mission.

But I believe at the job back at home we have lost our way. Lost sight of where our focus needs to be. Lost sight of the question "What value does what I am doing at this very moment add to the mission downrange?"

I am sure this isn't true for everyone. I can't just blanket-label all aspects of the military. I can only speak to what I know and the job I do when I am not deployed. I have long felt this way about the job I do at home, but even I didn't realize how right I was until I got downrange. I guess a part of me hoped I was wrong, but I wasn't.

I have to work. I have to stick this thing out for another 8 and a half years until I retire. I can't just quit. Especially not in this economy. I am grateful to have employment at all. Perhaps that is where I will have to dedicate my focus. The one that will get me through to the finish line while keeping my sanity in tact.

See that? Sometimes just banging it out on a keyboard helps me see the light...