I remember basic training in the military. Hurry up and wait.
We weren't supposed to look at the "whale ---- scum" in the 40/50 squad. Punishment. They had to dye their dungarees pink. Rise and shine at 0300. Grab a trenching tool and a bucket. March double time to the far end of the grinder. Then dig the rock hard soil and fill the bucket. RUN not walk a quarter mile with the heavy bucket and dump the soil in a neat pile. Then RUN back to the other side and dig and fill. That continued until dinner. After which the filled the buckets from the piles, and of course ran and re-filled the holes they had dug, until dusk.
I have this built-in aversion now, which I believe is due to the futility of doing anything the stupid way. And no, I never participated in the 40/50 squad but I did believe them when they told us if we tried tried to hop the fence and head to Tijuana, we would end up in Portsmouth Naval Prison.
So forgive me when I show little patience with substandard performance and durability. This comes from a life filled with irritating stuff that "Almost Works"
