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So the other night, Lcpl Prozac (In Desperate Need Of) comes to relieve me on my post and tells me I have a couple of packages. OOoooh! I think. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kaygo and sdrawkcabyaj's packages have gotten here!
No such luck. Not even close.
Three more enormous boxes from Operation Paperback. To date, I must have received over 300 books from them. 300. Contemplate that number for a moment. Twice as many days as I've spent "in country" so far. Barring all other gifts of books, I would have to read one every day for the duration of my mobilization, including the much-anticipated leave beginning in mid-to-late October. I could distribute them to the rest of the company, but combined with all the other boxes of books, we would each have to read a book a week until we leave here in the fall for us to have made good use of each one.
It's not that I'm ungrateful. It's just that I'm drowning.
And it gets worse.
I open one of the boxes to find the books just tossed in, not stacked neatly, or anything like that. I start pulling books out. Dean Koontz. Michael Crichton. RL Stine.
RL Stine?
Oh yeah. Gets better still. I look at one and I see Mi refrigerador está quebrado. Huh? And then there's one called, tantalizingly, Nostradamus. And I open it up and I see Il mio frigorifero è rotto. Whuh? Spanish? Italian? I mean, the Nat Guardies from Puerto Rico might like the Spanish (it's all they seem to speak anyway... coulda swore the official language of the military was English), but Italian?
I will send the Operation Paperback people a thank you note. I really will. And then I'll see what I can do about a cease-and-desist.
When I find out who gave them my address... they're going to learn the meaning of "bulk packages" and "Il mio frigorifero è rotto."
kaygo and sdrawkcabyaj's packages have gotten here!No such luck. Not even close.
Three more enormous boxes from Operation Paperback. To date, I must have received over 300 books from them. 300. Contemplate that number for a moment. Twice as many days as I've spent "in country" so far. Barring all other gifts of books, I would have to read one every day for the duration of my mobilization, including the much-anticipated leave beginning in mid-to-late October. I could distribute them to the rest of the company, but combined with all the other boxes of books, we would each have to read a book a week until we leave here in the fall for us to have made good use of each one.
It's not that I'm ungrateful. It's just that I'm drowning.
And it gets worse.
I open one of the boxes to find the books just tossed in, not stacked neatly, or anything like that. I start pulling books out. Dean Koontz. Michael Crichton. RL Stine.
RL Stine?
Oh yeah. Gets better still. I look at one and I see Mi refrigerador está quebrado. Huh? And then there's one called, tantalizingly, Nostradamus. And I open it up and I see Il mio frigorifero è rotto. Whuh? Spanish? Italian? I mean, the Nat Guardies from Puerto Rico might like the Spanish (it's all they seem to speak anyway... coulda swore the official language of the military was English), but Italian?
I will send the Operation Paperback people a thank you note. I really will. And then I'll see what I can do about a cease-and-desist.
When I find out who gave them my address... they're going to learn the meaning of "bulk packages" and "Il mio frigorifero è rotto."