Got back from lunch to find email from Bill, over with the US Antarctic Program, who wanted to call to ask me a question. Sure – he’s great fun to talk to, and of course, I want to do EVERYTHING I CAN to keep in the forefront of his mind in case something opens up at the pole (if you’re wondering what the heck I’m talking about, you need to start at this post, and catch up).
We chatted a bit [YES], and he asked how my day was going [YES], and I told him honestly that it had been [YES] pretty good so far, and how’s his? And he [YES] told me that he’s got his hands full because of [YES, PLEASE] a personnel shuffle he’s trying [YES, REALLY] to manage, because one of his returning tech support guys has gone walkabout, so he [YES, YES] has had to swap his helpdesk guy over into tech support, which [OH, YES] meant that he now needs to fill in a last-minute vacancy at [HUH?] helpdesk and…
…do I still want to go to The Pole?
Honestly, I giggled and squealed like a schoolgirl. I can hardly type straight.
Would deploy end of October, early November. Brownie life-list points if I manage to wear my Halloween costume on the Herc flight. Won’t know much more than that until I get the more official phone call. OMG. (By the way, that’s “friendly”, or “fantastic” up there in the title).
What to do next?
1. Tell Devon. Done. Over the phone I could hear her dropping stuff and dancing around the kitchen. She’s pretty happy about this, too.