The Way Things Work, Part II: Living

Current Conditions
Temperature: 0F
Wind Chill: -18F

Ever seen the movie "Groundhog Day", where Bill Murray keeps reliving the same day over and over again? That is exactly what is happening here, except that it's "Groundhog Week". The work day is extremely repetitive for most, myself included. After-work events are scheduled weekly, so most of them occur on the same day every week. My week looks something like this:

Monday is "entertain drunken Katie" night, because she has Tuesday off (the kitchen staff all have skewed schedules).
Tuesday is usually either pool or bowling.
Wednesday night is soccer.
Thursday is a repeat of Tuesday.
Friday night is usually band practice.
Saturday: if there isn't a party already planned, then one forms.

Even Sunday, our only day off, is repetitive. I sleep in until 11 (something I haven't even been capable of for many years), then have brunch, go to work for about an hour, then sort through pictures while I burn a movie to DVD, put in the DVD and take a nap (why I still bother to burn one every week is beyond my reasoning capability), go to dinner, and finally meet Brody, Casey, John, and Genevieve in the lounge to watch two episodes of Deadwood.

Other folks have different schedules, of course, but equally repetitive; instead of soccer on Wednesday, someone may watch Lost; instead of band practice on Friday, they may go to "Art Bar" or work in the Library. Anyway, you get the idea; we're all becoming institutionalized zombies, incapable of remembering a change in routine unless our Outlook Calendar reminds us, and we still forget. This is not entirely our fault; much of it is the cold and lack of sunlight, but I'll get to that later.

For now, a walk through of our daily living situation. This is the service area of the Galley:

Walk in, grab a blue tray and a plate. Place the plate on the left side of your tray. At the nearest counter, cut off a slice of fresh baked bread, place it in the lower right corner of your tray. Next go to the hot line, then to the cold line, filling your plate (if you remember, a decision can be made here to go to the deli/sandwich line if nothing else appeals to your buds). Try not to use a bowl for anything, unless you can fit it on your plate or you didn't grab any bread, because you'll need that top right corner of the tray for two beverages: one water, one 50/50 blend of apple and cranberry juice. These are attained simultaneously in a specific manner; the water pours into the cup in your left hand at twice the rate that apple juice pours into the cup in your right, so when the water cup is full, stop pouring apple juice and switch to cranberry. 50/50, every time. Before getting these beverages, though, grab a fork and knife and place them to the left of the plate. While grabbing the knife, remember that you need butter for your bread and return to the bread line (also every time), all while trying to ignore the desserts.

Now that you have your meal, enter the seating area of the Galley:

Do not sit in the lower area. In the summer, this area is primarily full of Air Force personnel, fire fighters and generally stiff-shirt looking types. In the winter there is no reason, because there are no Air Force personnel and it turns out the fire fighters are OK, even fun. But, you're institutionalized and it would just be weird to sit down there. Do not sit at the IT table, in fact, it's best not to even look in that direction (however, it is encouraged to think of ways to subtly change or move the IT table and try to imagine how far it would go until they noticed and gauge what their reaction might be). Instead, sit at one of the four upper-level tables nearest the exit. If there are nothing but full tables and empty tables, feel free to "porch it" at one of the full tables by grabbing an extra chair and joining the end of the table. Available space will require that you turn your tray from a landscape layout to a portrait (hence the near-homonym title of "porch it"). Be aware, though, that this may sometimes lead you to wonder why there are eight or nine (the record) people crammed into a six person table which is surrounded by five roomy, empty tables. Don't worry, the simple answer is that you are a mindless sheep, and for this reason, you walk a fine line when making fun of any nearby Kiwis.

OK, you're done eating and your social skills have degraded to an absent stare for this particular sitting, so it's time to leave. Deposit used utensils, plate, cups and blue tray in the appropriate locations while saying a brief hello and thank you to your community Dining Attendant. If you have any remaining food, dirty napkins, etc., be sure to dump them into the proper receptacles: food into Food waste and napkins into Burnables. There should also be a receptacle for Aluminum cans nearby, should you need it.

There are many other categories of waste as well, even more than in that recycling episode of Penn & Teller's Bullshit. Here's a typical dormitory waste station:

Light metal, Fabric, Mixed paper, Glass, Plastic, Batteries, Aerosols, Non-recyclables, and you already know Food waste, Burnables, and Aluminum cans. But let's not forget all the other categories that are available at various other locations: Cardboard, Sanitary waste, Sharps, Construction debris, Heavy metal, Non-ferrous metal, Electronic scrap, CRT Monitors, Hazardous waste, Wood. All this waste has to be shipped back to the States to be burned, buried, recycled, re-used, or sold, depending on the category, so please sort your garbage as best you can according to the official "Trash Matrix." Don't fret about it too much, though, because you're bound to make plenty of mistakes (for instance, bottle caps go in Burnables, who knew?), which is why there is a whole department dedicated to re-sorting your improperly sorted mess and making sure that it makes it onto that ship in the proper containers.

And don't forget, there's always Skua for all your thrift store needs. Skua (named after the bird, to confuse you) is a great way to get rid of crap that you think (incorrectly) someone else here may want. Go ahead and put those gasoline-soaked boots and jeans in Skua, someone will surely need a Fuelie costume at some point. Throw your favorite cassettes in there and those 20-year-old freeze-dried rations you've been saving for the end of the world (guess what, you're there!). These items are sure to spend eternity here where there are no little bugs to work diligently at their decomposition.

Actually, Skua can be a good place to get clothing, shoes, electric kettles, hot plates, and coveted room decorations if you get the timing right. Many people will deposit decent things into Skua rather than carry or ship them home, so if you go during a time of massive redeployment, you may have some luck. Or maybe, if you're like me, decorating a dorm room that no longer sees the light of day just isn't your bag.

Here's my room:

This picture is taken from the doorway. To the right, out of sight, is a bunk bed. During the summer, this room would house three people uncomfortably. Fortunately, everyone gets their own room during the winter. Unfortunately, I'll be here for nearly a month of the coming summertime, which means I'll have to tolerate roommates again. Hopefully, I'll be able to move to the nicer dorms before then and share a room and private bathroom with only one roommate: someone that has been here with me for the winter and is equally tired, grumpy and retarded (on the ice, this winter-over condition is referred to as "toasty").

This concludes your orientation.