February 04, 2009

TAMP: No, really, those are my pants...

I know it has been a while since I regaled you all with a story from work, mostly because my job is inherently boring - but also because there is only so much I want to share about the sadness and anger I see everyday. Often I joke that I spent tens of thousands of dollars and 5 and a 1/2 years on some college that I rarely use - to do what boils down to babysitting on steroids.

I joke, but it is so often true. Today, however, my body learned what my mind already knew: jobs and life take perseverance and a concept called the "Bullet Proof Mind." This concept is as simple as it is timeless: I will not fail, I will not lose, I will not die - I will win, I will go home today. The concept may seem a little abstract to those of you who don't carry a sidearm to and from work everyday, but it is as real for you as it is for me. It is life.
Mental preparedness, planning for the future, itemizing a budget, getting paperwork in order, faith in a higher power, knowledge those things will work they way they are supposed to. My Bullet Proof Mind may actually involve bullets, fists, shanks and so on - but your mind's protection may be knowing the car’s brakes will work every time, that the airframe mechanic really knows how to arm the ejection seat, that the post-soviet corrupted immigration officer will let me back in the county this time, or as simple as I will go home to the ones I love.

Quite Cool is often amazed that I can remain so calm in the short-term high-stress situations life has to offer. I am no ice-man (her post about the ambient temperature of our dwelling to the contrary); I can lose it over the dumbest things - how to fold shirts or even the proper order of the daily reading of the newspaper - but the simple fact is this: my day may go south in a hurry, but I will go home to the ones I love.

This may be the ramblings of post-combat euphoria, but today I stood my post, found myself on the wrong side of the floor (that’s down, not up) with an aggressor on top, and came out victorious - I won, I went home. The bumps, bruises, and scrapes will fade, but the lasting memory of the fight or flight adrenaline dump will prepare me for the next go-round. This wasn't my first brush with violence face to face, nor will it be my last. Until next time: I will not fail, I will not lose, I will not die - I will win, and I will go home today.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go check my pants…

3 comments:

The Coach said...

Glad to hear the adrenaline dump still works. I think we need to talk about bumps, bruises, and scrapes sometimes.

Your wife's blog is about the last place I should be learning about your being on the wrong side of the floor at work.

mark said...

Yeah, perhaps it is time to start my own blog - so it won't be so bad when you read about work related issues. By the time we get around to seeing each other, whatever visible signs of the altercations will have passed.

The trick of the Adrenaline dump, is to make sure is isn't simultaniously occuring with a regualr dump - luckily not my problem, but if it were, also not something you should be reading on my wife's blog...

Hannah said...

and yet, here I am reading about it...

Ok, so I guess the whole Cool family has assimilated these sort of stories and become resolved and understanding, but I . . . I knew about the back surgery and we've talked about the criminal justice system and that guy in Arizona. But, Mr. Cool, this is quite a story. "Post-combat euphoria," "bumps, bruises, and scrapes." Gulp.