The good days

Believe it or not there are good days here in Iraq. For example I love calling my family. I love the sound in their voice when they hear from me. Especially my Mom. She is so excitable and sounds like a little school girl whenever she picks up the phone. That always feels good.

My Dad, he tries to be smooth and all fatherly and stuff but you can hear it in his voice too. I like talking to my Dad, he always has something wise to say and because he is one of the few people that I know that likes to discuss current events, religion, philosophy, money, all those things it's nice to have a conversation with him not just as a Dad but as a man. It's cool to know someone like that.

My Brother, he's cool too. I mean when he isn't at Kirklands picking up a wicker toilet brush he's funny too. Like my Dad I can talk to him about the same things but we often get to talking about our first love, cars. But, it's always nice to talk to him becasue he always has something funny to say.

And the there are the days here in Iraq when you get that panic "emergency" call when the whole place has gone to shit and you are the only person that can fix it. It's great to be able to go into this places armed only with your mind and a screwdriver and with that you can get the war back up and running. What I like about it most is that the people, the Marines, that I help are genuinely thankful for the work that I do. I mean to me it is really nothing it just part of the job and I get paid to make them look good. But, to them it's more than that, they depend on the systems I support and it's really do or die for someone somewhere. It is nice to do a good job and be appreciated for doing that job. I've never really worked a job where you get that gratification for doing a good job and knowing that what you are doing is good.

It is nice. I like it.