Frustrated And Rebellious

So today has become one of those days that makes me question the decision I made so many years ago. It happens every once in a while, a particularly rough day that for no immediate reason spirals into one headache after another. I worked with the little one with the same name as myself. He is by far one of my least favorite people. Next to Pimp Daddy, Daddy Mack of course. He spent most of the day whining about how everyone in the Army had screwed him over in one way or another. At one point I mentioned that after listening to him vent for a few hours I hadn’t heard him accept blame for even one thing. Everything from the pending divorce to his inability to make rank someone else was at fault entirely. He said that I was just trying to confuse him, apparently that was not his fault either. So after a very long thirteen hours, as I am getting ready to crawl out the back of the truck and into a much needed shower I am told that I will have tomorrow off but at 0530 I am supposed to be in front of my trailer ready to go take yet another PT Test. Apparently they lost the paper work from the one I took last month. So grrr or whatever. Needless to say I was less than pleased. In fact I think irate is a more accurate description of my personal feelings. I told one of the senior NCO’s that I had just taken one last month and he told me flat out he didn’t care. So just incase it isn’t very apparent I’m whining. I honestly wouldn’t mind so much if it wasn’t so ungodly early on my one day off. Sadly even as I write this I know that I will get up and I will take the test again. And I know that I will probably repeat the process agin next month. So, why did I join the Army? The honest answer is that there was not one person that thought I would be able to do it. (Including even myself.) I was never the type people picture as military material. I joined before Sept 11th, so I know it wasn’t out of some kind of need to fight those that had cut my country so deep. Here I am four years and seven months later. This is what the ARMY has taught me. Your strongest moments will be the ones that chose you, not the ones you chose yourself. I read in Angels & Demons, (The prequel to Da Vinci Code) That history is written by the winners. I wonder if that is why I started writing, So that on one level at least I would be a winner. I know that is why I play Solitaire. If I lose I lose to myself which makes me a winner... sort of. Is anyone else confused....

Random act of defiance at work.

For some reason I have an almost clinical aversion to wearing my helmet at work. Even though I have been told repeatedly that I am to wear it, I constantly find myself riding around with it sitting next to me.... Who’d of thunk it .. A. J. James Rebel Without a helmet.