Well, this is it. Or at least, as close to it as I can be until I'm actually in.
My blood's been taken for HIV/Hepatitis screening. My first attempt at the Pre-Enlistment Fitness Assessment was successful. Just have to repeat it within four weeks of enlistment. My initial Police Check form had expired, so I sent another one in yesterday. These three things will apparently get me a Letter of Offer. Here's hoping. I've been told that my proposed enlistment date is 3 July, so if all goes according to plan, I've got about seven weeks of civilian bliss left!
When I first heard the date, I thought it would be plenty of time to sort out my affairs before I go in, yet not so much time that I'll feel like I'm just sitting around and twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the real action to happen. Seven weeks has turned into seven weekends to catch up with all sorts of people, hopefully scrounge enough money to have the biggest bash in the universe a mere handful of days before enlistment, and a small amount of time to gloat at current and past work colleagues about finally making it somewhere I've been talking about for years.
I'm surprised that I've got this far, to be honest. It's been years in the works, and I've got to admit that there have been multiple times when I really did wonder if this section of my life story would ever actually kick off. Even my enlistment coordinator was looking through my paperwork and commenting on how long my application process had been drawn out for. I've got this truly electric feeling as the days flash by.
Tuesday, May 8
Friday, April 27
this is a call
You have 1 saved message.
Received yesterday at 8.46AM.
Hi Angela, my name's Emma, I'm calling from Defence Force recruiting. I'm not sure if you're aware, but your medical stuff has all been finally sorted out and you're now ready to be enlisted. I'm Enlistment Coordinator here so I'm your point of contact from now on. Could you please give me a call back in regards to an enlistment date on 8633 !!!!
Thanks Angela. Bye.
Received yesterday at 8.46AM.
Hi Angela, my name's Emma, I'm calling from Defence Force recruiting. I'm not sure if you're aware, but your medical stuff has all been finally sorted out and you're now ready to be enlisted. I'm Enlistment Coordinator here so I'm your point of contact from now on. Could you please give me a call back in regards to an enlistment date on 8633 !!!!
Thanks Angela. Bye.
Thursday, March 29
hearts gone awol
It's been just over a couple of weeks since I sent in my medical reports. I've been trying to distract myself from the waiting game, but it's almost like the longer it takes them to reply to me, the more I manage to convince myself that they could be deliberating at this very moment whether to let me in or not.
Maybe they opened my envelope within the first couple of days after I sent it, and it's been forwarded on to some subsection of the recruitment office in the hope that someone can find a medical loophole big enough for me to jump through in order to get enlisted. Maybe they really want me in there, and they're willing to waive whatever eternity of a waiting period I've conjured in my imagination. Maybe I'm going to be rejected, and my application is just pending someone calling me or printing and sending a form letter to inform me of such news.
My feelings have swayed this way and that, sometimes I believe that no news is good news, because if they wanted to reject me straight away, it wouldn't take this long to let me know I can't get medical clearance at all. Other times I think that they're going to sift through their guidelines to try and get me in, but it'll be another twelve month delay, or I won't be able to do it at all. A friend of mine asked me if I'd be devastated if I don't get in, and I'm really not sure how I'll take it. I mean, I've done all that I can, and sure, this is the biggest thing I've actually tried really hard to achieve in my life, but there's just no precedent. I thought about sketching some alternative plans if I get a concrete rejection, but talked myself out of it, mostly for superstitious reasons.
I can't be too sure that the swirling in the pit of my stomach is solely due to nerves in a time of limbo, either. Despite this vibe of suspended animation and almost constant anticipation of a huge change, I've tried my best to keep the rest of my life as stable as possible. Consciously or not, I created a routine around me, of work and friends and home life, just to keep me sane in the meantime. I've never really been one to cling to regular anything, but strangely enough with upheaval seeming so imminent, I have come to enjoy all the things that give me a sense of home, a heck of a lot more. Not that I'm even enlisted yet, but I have already got quite a soft spot for my civilian life.
Without quite realising what I was doing, I think I actually put my heart on hold. Whether I managed to do this successfully is another matter, but for obvious reasons, I thought it best to avoid getting too involved, or too attached, or too dependent on anyone else. A lot of my slog to get physically and mentally fit for enlistment has been a personal battle, and there has been many a run when I have pondered how much I'm going to miss this place, and the people in it that I love. I didn't know how long it would take me to actually get enlisted, heck, I still don't know now, but I did actually try to maintain a certain level of closeness to people such that I wouldn't be a complete stranger in my home town, yet also be able to leave at short notice without breaking my heart.
When I had my job interview, I was asked whether I was single or not, I guess to see whether I had any issues about leaving loved ones behind, or had to consider the possibility of taking anyone else with me. I'm almost tempted to speak to a recruiter about what they would have said to me if I hadn't said I was single. Not that I'd have as much dramas as someone that had their own family to deal with or anything like that, but I guess I'm still at a loss for how to deal with saying no to opportunities of love in case I get whisked away. I guess it's not paranoia exactly, because the reality is that I might not be around town for much longer, but it's still a 'what if' situation that shouldn't be haunting me as much as it has.
At the start of the year, I kind of made a resolution to no longer bother with halfhearted relationships. It's going to be hard enough adjusting to not having my good friends around and on call whenever I need or want them. I just won't have the energy to maintain any kind of mediocre friendship just for the sake of it. I think what I didn't bank on, when making a conscious effort to forge better connections with the people that mattered most in my life, was that certain existing relationships could intensify to the point where it's going to be even harder to make the phase shift to not having an immediate network of loved ones.
My general outlook on life has improved tenfold since adopting a take-it-as-it-comes attitude, so I'm definitely changing for the better. I'm trying my best to not act too much like someone with a terminal illness, because I just don't know if these days are my last or merely the beginning of a new phase. Then again, no one really knows what the future holds, or can know, which is a relief, really. I've got to find the balance between pre-emptively latching on to my civilian life, and becoming accustomed to letting it all go.
In the meantime; the wait continues.
Maybe they opened my envelope within the first couple of days after I sent it, and it's been forwarded on to some subsection of the recruitment office in the hope that someone can find a medical loophole big enough for me to jump through in order to get enlisted. Maybe they really want me in there, and they're willing to waive whatever eternity of a waiting period I've conjured in my imagination. Maybe I'm going to be rejected, and my application is just pending someone calling me or printing and sending a form letter to inform me of such news.
My feelings have swayed this way and that, sometimes I believe that no news is good news, because if they wanted to reject me straight away, it wouldn't take this long to let me know I can't get medical clearance at all. Other times I think that they're going to sift through their guidelines to try and get me in, but it'll be another twelve month delay, or I won't be able to do it at all. A friend of mine asked me if I'd be devastated if I don't get in, and I'm really not sure how I'll take it. I mean, I've done all that I can, and sure, this is the biggest thing I've actually tried really hard to achieve in my life, but there's just no precedent. I thought about sketching some alternative plans if I get a concrete rejection, but talked myself out of it, mostly for superstitious reasons.
I can't be too sure that the swirling in the pit of my stomach is solely due to nerves in a time of limbo, either. Despite this vibe of suspended animation and almost constant anticipation of a huge change, I've tried my best to keep the rest of my life as stable as possible. Consciously or not, I created a routine around me, of work and friends and home life, just to keep me sane in the meantime. I've never really been one to cling to regular anything, but strangely enough with upheaval seeming so imminent, I have come to enjoy all the things that give me a sense of home, a heck of a lot more. Not that I'm even enlisted yet, but I have already got quite a soft spot for my civilian life.
Without quite realising what I was doing, I think I actually put my heart on hold. Whether I managed to do this successfully is another matter, but for obvious reasons, I thought it best to avoid getting too involved, or too attached, or too dependent on anyone else. A lot of my slog to get physically and mentally fit for enlistment has been a personal battle, and there has been many a run when I have pondered how much I'm going to miss this place, and the people in it that I love. I didn't know how long it would take me to actually get enlisted, heck, I still don't know now, but I did actually try to maintain a certain level of closeness to people such that I wouldn't be a complete stranger in my home town, yet also be able to leave at short notice without breaking my heart.
When I had my job interview, I was asked whether I was single or not, I guess to see whether I had any issues about leaving loved ones behind, or had to consider the possibility of taking anyone else with me. I'm almost tempted to speak to a recruiter about what they would have said to me if I hadn't said I was single. Not that I'd have as much dramas as someone that had their own family to deal with or anything like that, but I guess I'm still at a loss for how to deal with saying no to opportunities of love in case I get whisked away. I guess it's not paranoia exactly, because the reality is that I might not be around town for much longer, but it's still a 'what if' situation that shouldn't be haunting me as much as it has.
At the start of the year, I kind of made a resolution to no longer bother with halfhearted relationships. It's going to be hard enough adjusting to not having my good friends around and on call whenever I need or want them. I just won't have the energy to maintain any kind of mediocre friendship just for the sake of it. I think what I didn't bank on, when making a conscious effort to forge better connections with the people that mattered most in my life, was that certain existing relationships could intensify to the point where it's going to be even harder to make the phase shift to not having an immediate network of loved ones.
My general outlook on life has improved tenfold since adopting a take-it-as-it-comes attitude, so I'm definitely changing for the better. I'm trying my best to not act too much like someone with a terminal illness, because I just don't know if these days are my last or merely the beginning of a new phase. Then again, no one really knows what the future holds, or can know, which is a relief, really. I've got to find the balance between pre-emptively latching on to my civilian life, and becoming accustomed to letting it all go.
In the meantime; the wait continues.
Friday, March 2
tempus fugit
It's been just over six months since I started this blog, around twelve months since I recovered from my last bout with surgery, and almost three years since I first saw an ad in the paper to cook for the RAAF. It seems incredible that so long ago, the seed of this idea was planted in my brain, and despite a couple jobs I almost disappeared into, I've still maintained some semblance of focus on getting there. Here? So close!
The past few months have been a strange mixture. There have been a few ups and downs, but I've found that it's been easier to grin and bear it at my current job, because I've always been able to cheer myself up with the prospect of escaping for something far cooler, hoping that it would be sooner rather than later. It's not difficult to enjoy the temp mentality, even if I'm having a particularly crappy day and customers are giving you the irrits, I console myself by thinking they're stuck being an asshole forever whereas I'm going to be doing something completely different and changing for the better as a person to boot! That, and whenever I look around my current workplace and see the madness that ensues, I am comforted by the thought that in a few years' time, I will be possibly looking at the same thing... but with enough responsibility and knowledge of the situation to do something about it. It might still be mad, but at least it will all be mine!
About a week ago, I did a 2.4km time trial in 12:41, which is fast enough for the 18-24 age fitness level let alone the 25-34. Stoked by this performance, I decided to kick on and see if I could crack the 25 second flexed arm hang, and found that I could go for 30. Even if I counted a little quickly, that should have me within the new improved range for 25-34 year olds. Buzzed further by taking care of the hang without breaking too much of a sweat, I figured I should pump out some sit-ups for the win. 25 of them were no trouble at all! This pretty much means that I'm good enough to pass boot camp's minimum fitness requirements, but of course if I'm at this level now... ten weeks and two days of basic is going to get me blitzing even those levels.
Now, I don't think of myself as being particularly superstitious, but I do believe in signs. It was pretty cool how the first time in a while that I checked the fitness requirements, I found out that it was easier than I thought to pass. Then when I tested myself, it turns out that I'm fit enough for the old levels anyway. Some time last year (not long after starting this blog), I was looking for some jewellery to go with a dress, and ended up buying a necklace with some mini-dog-tags on it. I also happened to keep buying military styled/coloured clothing, possibly because it came back into fashion at the time, or most other available options were dresses and/or pastels. Even though I tried to hold back on the military gear (I should be buying genuine civilian stylings, so I've got nice stuff to rock out in whenever I get leave privileges!), I think it's all helped me keep enlistment in mind.
Not long after my RAAF interview last July, I thought I should do a couple of things to make the shift to military living a little easier. One was to start getting used to sleeping in a single bed again, after some blissful years of loving a queen. It was hard to do at first, especially when I woke up most mornings to the vision of my disassembled queen bed leaning up against the wall. It got easier after I ended up selling my bed to a workmate! Another thing I've tried to do is get accustomed to drinking less coffee (a quality espresso dependency would no doubt be laughed at), and getting up earlier/quicker in the mornings. I must admit, now that I'm a lot more active, I don't nap and sleep in as much as I used to, but I also don't feel as much of a need to do it anyway. I think my next challenge should be going to sleep with clothes on!
This morning I received my final medical report from the hospital, which gave me a glowing recommendation for entry. It was kind of strange reading it on the way to work today, it was almost like a job reference, but obviously all the doctor knew about me was from a phone conversation and whatever was sitting in my medical file. Amongst all the clinical stuff, there's this super strong element of 'let this chicky in; her bits will cause no trouble!'. I didn't get time to make it to the post office today, I might deliver the reports in person on Monday depending on my work roster, otherwise it'll all be sent by Monday.
I should call my recruitment officer to find out when the intakes for RAAF cooks actually are, before I get too nervous about what's going on with the short term remains of my civilian life, or way too excited about handing in notice at my work. I was thrilled to bits when I wrote 'applying for employment with RAAF' as my reason for leaving my old job... it's even closer to the truth now!
The past few months have been a strange mixture. There have been a few ups and downs, but I've found that it's been easier to grin and bear it at my current job, because I've always been able to cheer myself up with the prospect of escaping for something far cooler, hoping that it would be sooner rather than later. It's not difficult to enjoy the temp mentality, even if I'm having a particularly crappy day and customers are giving you the irrits, I console myself by thinking they're stuck being an asshole forever whereas I'm going to be doing something completely different and changing for the better as a person to boot! That, and whenever I look around my current workplace and see the madness that ensues, I am comforted by the thought that in a few years' time, I will be possibly looking at the same thing... but with enough responsibility and knowledge of the situation to do something about it. It might still be mad, but at least it will all be mine!
About a week ago, I did a 2.4km time trial in 12:41, which is fast enough for the 18-24 age fitness level let alone the 25-34. Stoked by this performance, I decided to kick on and see if I could crack the 25 second flexed arm hang, and found that I could go for 30. Even if I counted a little quickly, that should have me within the new improved range for 25-34 year olds. Buzzed further by taking care of the hang without breaking too much of a sweat, I figured I should pump out some sit-ups for the win. 25 of them were no trouble at all! This pretty much means that I'm good enough to pass boot camp's minimum fitness requirements, but of course if I'm at this level now... ten weeks and two days of basic is going to get me blitzing even those levels.
Now, I don't think of myself as being particularly superstitious, but I do believe in signs. It was pretty cool how the first time in a while that I checked the fitness requirements, I found out that it was easier than I thought to pass. Then when I tested myself, it turns out that I'm fit enough for the old levels anyway. Some time last year (not long after starting this blog), I was looking for some jewellery to go with a dress, and ended up buying a necklace with some mini-dog-tags on it. I also happened to keep buying military styled/coloured clothing, possibly because it came back into fashion at the time, or most other available options were dresses and/or pastels. Even though I tried to hold back on the military gear (I should be buying genuine civilian stylings, so I've got nice stuff to rock out in whenever I get leave privileges!), I think it's all helped me keep enlistment in mind.
Not long after my RAAF interview last July, I thought I should do a couple of things to make the shift to military living a little easier. One was to start getting used to sleeping in a single bed again, after some blissful years of loving a queen. It was hard to do at first, especially when I woke up most mornings to the vision of my disassembled queen bed leaning up against the wall. It got easier after I ended up selling my bed to a workmate! Another thing I've tried to do is get accustomed to drinking less coffee (a quality espresso dependency would no doubt be laughed at), and getting up earlier/quicker in the mornings. I must admit, now that I'm a lot more active, I don't nap and sleep in as much as I used to, but I also don't feel as much of a need to do it anyway. I think my next challenge should be going to sleep with clothes on!
This morning I received my final medical report from the hospital, which gave me a glowing recommendation for entry. It was kind of strange reading it on the way to work today, it was almost like a job reference, but obviously all the doctor knew about me was from a phone conversation and whatever was sitting in my medical file. Amongst all the clinical stuff, there's this super strong element of 'let this chicky in; her bits will cause no trouble!'. I didn't get time to make it to the post office today, I might deliver the reports in person on Monday depending on my work roster, otherwise it'll all be sent by Monday.
I should call my recruitment officer to find out when the intakes for RAAF cooks actually are, before I get too nervous about what's going on with the short term remains of my civilian life, or way too excited about handing in notice at my work. I was thrilled to bits when I wrote 'applying for employment with RAAF' as my reason for leaving my old job... it's even closer to the truth now!
Thursday, February 22
meet my new best friend; the universe
Things finally seem to be rolling, in a way that has elicited a strange eye-of-the-storm feeling deep within my belly. I'm waiting on receipt of a written report from the hospital about my girlybits, though I know it's definitely in the mail because the doctor that wrote it called me on Monday to ask what she was meant to say. She was actually worried she might write something that would get my application rejected! How sweet. I can't really get around telling the truth, though.
Buoyed by the knowledge that the red key was on its way to me, I figured I should start on the blue key. That one being booking into a GP for a retest of my urine. When I had the RAAF interview that included some initial medical testing, they found blood in my urine, so I needed another report after any required investigation. Fortunately it was all clear, and I didn't have to go through the rigmarole of figuring out what was wrong with me that was causing that particular bit of trouble. I have never been so excited about pee in a cup, ever.
Strangely enough, yesterday was the last day of my gym membership. I wasn't sure whether I was going to be enlisted by now, but because I had to give 28 days notice to cancel it, and I've been training a heck of a lot outdoors these days, I thought it was a good idea to get rid of it. A weird coincidence happened when I decided to hand in my two weeks' notice at my job last year, when all I knew was that I had sent in my RAAF paperwork, and was waiting to hear whether they would even give me an interview, let alone a job offer. As I walked back to my car at the end of the shift, I checked my voicemail and there was a message from the recruiters. I set up my interview for the day after I got back from a short stint in Sydney...
I haven't resigned from my current job yet, but I have actually planned another visit to Sydney. I'm quietly hoping that I'll still be in town by the time Sydney peeps come down here to visit, which is some time closer to Easter. Heck, I've signed up for a 15km run on April Fool's Day, which I've been training too hard for to not feel bummed if I miss out on it, no matter how thrilling enlistment would be! My Sydney friend said I should worry less about the what ifs and she's right, as much as I feel like I should put parts of my life on hold in case I get the call within the next couple of weeks, I've still got to live. I'm far better off adapting to circumstances as they change; not a moment before.
Couldn't sleep properly a couple of nights ago, and thought I should reread all of the online information about training prior to and during boot camp. It turns out that the metrics used to graduate from boot camp have been changed according to different age brackets! Even though I am still getting fitter (and hopefully stronger) as the weeks fly by, because I've spent the best part of a couple years dragging out my application, I now fall into the 25-34 year old category. This means that I get an extra minute to run 2.4km (I've spent about a month cutting down my run time to under 14 minutes, which is now good enough), only have to hang for 25 and not 30 seconds (the last time I checked I could go for 20), and need to do 25 and not 30 sit-ups (which I've been able to do with medicine balls 3-6kg anyway). Despite all my training, someone or something has suddenly made my chances of passing the fitness requirements a tad easier. Fantastic!
Told my run bud that I was feeling fortunate enough to buy a lottery ticket. You know how sometimes, every now and then, things just seem like they're starting to slip into place in your favour? I was reading somewhere that whenever you experience such a 'luck window', you should buy a lottery ticket. Just to see. If anything, just so you won't regret not trying your luck while having such a good run at life. I also said to him that even if I happen to land a ludicrous amount of money, if I get a job offer from RAAF, I'm still going to take it. That's probably a good sign that I'm onto a winning albeit unusual career path, ey.
I think that if they're willing to let me in with my status quo, I may be enlisted just after my birthday! If I need to get further treatment, it could be another twelve months before enlistment. If I am deemed permanently medically unfit, I've gotta think about another way around this!
Buoyed by the knowledge that the red key was on its way to me, I figured I should start on the blue key. That one being booking into a GP for a retest of my urine. When I had the RAAF interview that included some initial medical testing, they found blood in my urine, so I needed another report after any required investigation. Fortunately it was all clear, and I didn't have to go through the rigmarole of figuring out what was wrong with me that was causing that particular bit of trouble. I have never been so excited about pee in a cup, ever.
Strangely enough, yesterday was the last day of my gym membership. I wasn't sure whether I was going to be enlisted by now, but because I had to give 28 days notice to cancel it, and I've been training a heck of a lot outdoors these days, I thought it was a good idea to get rid of it. A weird coincidence happened when I decided to hand in my two weeks' notice at my job last year, when all I knew was that I had sent in my RAAF paperwork, and was waiting to hear whether they would even give me an interview, let alone a job offer. As I walked back to my car at the end of the shift, I checked my voicemail and there was a message from the recruiters. I set up my interview for the day after I got back from a short stint in Sydney...
I haven't resigned from my current job yet, but I have actually planned another visit to Sydney. I'm quietly hoping that I'll still be in town by the time Sydney peeps come down here to visit, which is some time closer to Easter. Heck, I've signed up for a 15km run on April Fool's Day, which I've been training too hard for to not feel bummed if I miss out on it, no matter how thrilling enlistment would be! My Sydney friend said I should worry less about the what ifs and she's right, as much as I feel like I should put parts of my life on hold in case I get the call within the next couple of weeks, I've still got to live. I'm far better off adapting to circumstances as they change; not a moment before.
Couldn't sleep properly a couple of nights ago, and thought I should reread all of the online information about training prior to and during boot camp. It turns out that the metrics used to graduate from boot camp have been changed according to different age brackets! Even though I am still getting fitter (and hopefully stronger) as the weeks fly by, because I've spent the best part of a couple years dragging out my application, I now fall into the 25-34 year old category. This means that I get an extra minute to run 2.4km (I've spent about a month cutting down my run time to under 14 minutes, which is now good enough), only have to hang for 25 and not 30 seconds (the last time I checked I could go for 20), and need to do 25 and not 30 sit-ups (which I've been able to do with medicine balls 3-6kg anyway). Despite all my training, someone or something has suddenly made my chances of passing the fitness requirements a tad easier. Fantastic!
Told my run bud that I was feeling fortunate enough to buy a lottery ticket. You know how sometimes, every now and then, things just seem like they're starting to slip into place in your favour? I was reading somewhere that whenever you experience such a 'luck window', you should buy a lottery ticket. Just to see. If anything, just so you won't regret not trying your luck while having such a good run at life. I also said to him that even if I happen to land a ludicrous amount of money, if I get a job offer from RAAF, I'm still going to take it. That's probably a good sign that I'm onto a winning albeit unusual career path, ey.
I think that if they're willing to let me in with my status quo, I may be enlisted just after my birthday! If I need to get further treatment, it could be another twelve months before enlistment. If I am deemed permanently medically unfit, I've gotta think about another way around this!
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