It's been a long time since high school and grade school, but I remember that I always had to take PHYS ED....I thought it was always mandatory....But, no, if people want to sit around and be fat and\or lazy, that is there perogative...
There is this kid in my division who I will call Schwarma. He first came to the division obviously intent on dodging any kind of hard labor and of getting out of the Navy, or off sea duty to say the least. He said he couldn't "look up", so he was always put on flag detail for morning and evening colors. He was also claiming that something was wrong with him physically, but could never give us a medical definition for it. It was difficult to give this kid a task because he would sometimes cause re-work for my other guys or he would take twice the time a normal person would to complete a simple job. One time one of my guys who I'll call B-dub found Schwarma doing something which B-dub apparently found to be disgusting, I believe, in a room on the ship that he had been assigned to clean and organize. That, and I caught him in the same space, on his laptop with his World of Warcraft cards laid out on the table when he was supposed to be cleaning.
At that time, Schwarma probably disliked me. It's my job to make sure that my division does what it needs to do, and, usually, someone in this position is not always liked. Usually, kids who are lazy or don't like authority (why they joined the military is beyond me) don't typically like me because I get in their ass when they aren't working or are trying to get out of work or do something stupid. Schwarma also had an anger management problem and may have had mental issues which he seemed to be using to attempt to get out of the Navy. That is the way it appeared to myself and others at least.
So one day he wanted to go to an unscheduled eye appointment. Mind you, this kid had two medical appointments to go to already every week. The LPO (Navy acronym for Leading Petty Officer) told him he had to go another day, and he freaked out. He went down to male berthing (place on a ship where people sleep) and told everyone he was going to kill them and then stormed out. Of course, in this day and age, you sort of take that stuff a little seriously, especially because this kid was known for having a couple fries short of a happy meal.
The Captain of our ship was pissed! He saw me in the p-way (Navy term for passageway) and asked me with a scowled look on his face, "Where is Schwarma?", and I told him that we were looking for him at that very moment. He walked off abruptly as if I was the one who decided to reproduce and give birth to this kid. We kept calling Schwarma's cell phone, and I even drove around base to see if he was walking around. I knew he didn't have a car, and he is a bit lazy, so I knew he wouldn't be walking very far.
When I got back to the ship, I found out he was in medical. Being the "one in charge" of him, I went directly there and was let inside by one of our friendly corpsman. There was Schwarma looking a bit defeated with a big bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and sides in a large plastic KFC bag. He said he "felt bad for what he said, so he got all of us chicken". Can you fucking believe that?! It's still the joke of the ship! Eventually, his demeanor and lack of concern made me kick him out of the division and his mental stability, due to this incident, and others before it, came into question. He went to work in deck department, which is much harder, daily manual labor than what my division does. We use brain power, while Boatswains Mates use arm and hand power. A few weeks later, he came to the door angry again because he couldn't take the advancement exam to Petty Officer Second Class\E5. I had marked "retention not recommended" on his eval, so he couldn't take the advancement exam. He was apparently upset. I told him he should have remembered because he did sign his evaluation.
My next run in with him was actually much more pleasant. After spending a few tough months with the BM's (Boatswains Mates), he approached me and said he checked out fine (mentally) and asked when he could return to the division. Shocked with this so-not-obvious news, I told the division he was returning (The guys in my division hated that he would cause re-work and wouldn't pull his weight.) and they were to allow him access to our spaces. I can't fucking believe it, but not one word about him having any physical or mental issues which would prohibit him from doing any work in the division and no complaints about the Navy whatsoever has come from his mouth! WOW! At least this kid isn't a waste to tax dollars anymore!
1. My husband and my dogs...I miss waking up next to them in the mornings...I never take that for granted.
2. Being able to hang out with my friends or family.
3. Space and privacy: you can't walk through any part of the ship without touching something or someone...and the only privacy I have is a blue curtain that I pull closed whenever I get into my rack (Navy term for bed the size of a coffin, literally) to go to sleep.
4. My comfortable bed: I have safety straps on my rack to keep my from falling out when the ship is rocking very hard.
5. Not feeling disgusted every time I eat the heavily greased and processed food.
6. Not having to wear shower shoes (or slippers) every time I take a shower.
7. Not having to dodge a swinging dryer door while moving my clothes from the bottom washer to the top dryer.
8. Sunshine coming in through the windows.
9. Being able to cook my own meals.
10. Being able to run outside.