A Letter to My Wife - Part 3

Oh god, please, get me the hell out of here. Seriously, come pick me up. Let's go be hobos in Canada. Or hey we could use that jar full of change to buy a city in Mexico were we can be gods with all of our copper and nickel and silver.

Do I really feel this way? A part of me seriously does. Hell maybe even most of me. But then there are those other parts of me. There's the part that wants to succeed. There's the part that wants to provide for you. There's the part of me that will never accept defeat, will never quit. There's the part of me that wants to be able to pay the utility bill. There's the part of me that wants to be able to provide for my children, to help them through college. To be able to help them through hard times in their early adulthood when they need food or PG&E is threatening to shut off their power. And there is that isolated part of me, the one that likes to run with loud music playing in my MP3 player, who likes to read books and write, who likes to play poker with my face covered and not say a word... the part of me that is, in some twisted way, truly enjoying this adventure, doing things I have never done before in places I have never been.

These are the parts of me that are stronger and more determined and hard-headed than those weaker parts of me that want to quit. My desire to fall down, to just go home on a early separation cannot outweigh my will to overcome all that seems impossible.

Would I rather be sharing all of these experiences with you and the kids? Y-E-S. Would I like to be able to see you and hug you and kiss you every day? Yes. But I carry you with me every where I go, in everything I do, in my mind and in my heart. No, that's not exactly true. To be accurate, the thoughts of you in my mind and in my heart are what is carrying me through this. And it will carry me through all the way to the end.

On to some details regarding my training.

This week we learned the definition of "Total Control." I have officially stopped thinking for myself. I have been programmed to be in "standby" mode by default. Standby mode is where I stand by and do nothing, think nothing, look at nothing, and try not to fart, smile, or collapse from exhaustion. When I am given a command by my drill sergeant, I snap out of standby mode on go immediately into "I-do-whatever-the-fuck-you-say" mode. While this is extrememly physically demanding, I'm on a mental freakin vacation here. I don't have to try to figure out the right way of doing anything anymore. I just do it. There is no more right and wrong. The right way to poop used to be in the toilet. Now, I'll just go ahead and poop in my shorts if I'm instructed to do so. See how much simpler things are now? Ha ha ha. I don't have to think. I just wait and then do as instructed. It's that simple.

Another thing you might find interesting is that my drill sergeant is deaf. I didn't even know that deaf people were allowed in the Army, but they are. Maybe it's because he's not completely deaf; just very hard of hearing. As long as I scream everything at the top of my lungs, he is able to hear me. Usually. It really pisses him off when I don't talk loud enough for him to hear, so for now, I love screaming. I also love the phrase "Drop and give me twenty." It is my favorite phrase and my favorite activity. You can tell because I do it ALL THE TIME!

I was also given my PT Test. I didn't do as well as the drill sergeants grandma, but I did okay by my standards. We also began our Physical Training. It's tough, but if the DS's grandma can do it, so can I. So far I am still not able to run as fast as his grandma, but I'm working on it. I also can't do as many sit-ups or push-ups as his grandma yet, but maybe I will be able to by the end of this thing.

We get up every day at 0430. That's so we can get more done by noon than most people get done all day. And believe me, we do! And instead of wasting all night sleeping, I get to wake up in the middle of the night and go on "fire guard." That means I walk around the barracks for two hours in the middle of the night instead of sleeping. Doing this reminds me of a word I used to know, though I can no longer define it. The word is "why." I have completely forgotten what that word means. "Why" is irrelevant here. Doing it is all that matters, whatever "it" is.

I can't wait til next week. I'll get tear gassed in the face. I hear it's great for clearing out your lungs and sinuses, and after going two weeks without I cigarette now, I could go for a good lung and sinus clearing. I'll also get my M16A2 Assualt Rifle. Seriously can't wait for that.

I miss you and I love you.