I delayed publishing this entry in order to surprise my Mom and Dad, they’re great people and seeing their reaction as I unexpectedly met them at the front door was priceless. I’m home. Quite a bit earlier than I expected. On Friday word came down that all of us LAT-movers were to be sent home immediately. I was handed a ticket for a flight out of Richmond in two hours. As I rushed back to the barracks there were a dozen things on my mind. Firstly, I wasn’t going to be able to give a proper goodbye to all the guys I’ve been friends with for the past two months, but secondly, I didn’t give a shit about that compared to the feeling of “WOOOOOO YEAH GOING HOME, FINALLY, YES.” After frantically changing and packing (while grinning uncontrollably from ear to ear), I was in a cab giving a ceremonial middle finger to Fort Neverleave as we drove through the gate. The timing was amazing since I could start school as soon as Monday (picking up Fall term a week late wouldn’t be that hard at all). While it’s regrettable that I didn’t finish my training as a welder, I wasn’t that torn up about it, considering I had been originally told that the training was only six weeks long (I believe this would be week nine, with six weeks to go). All in all, it's good to be home.
Did I get you? The above is what happened up until I was going to call a cab. But the dream ended as I was called back to the admin building and told very firmly by the chief warrant officer that my unit was in the wrong for calling me back and that I’m going to stay here and finish my training. Though not voicing my opinion at the time, I was really mad, livid, more than I can remember ever being. I had the ticket in my goddamned hand. I was convinced it was over, done with, inevitable that I wouldn’t have to be here another minute. A very happy moment in my life. Any skepticism I had about actually leaving had left by then, but then they still managed to fuck it up for me. I’m astounded. But it’s fine. It’s okay. Shit happens. We all have to learn how to deal with whatever life doles out to us. After all, I volunteered for this.
What I hope is that this experience will only work to make my eventual return more victorious. However, in the meantime I can't help but sing the Fort Lee blues. Here's a sample:
I know a pretty lady, she's in the army,
I see her at the chow hall but she don't look at me,
Oh pretty lady, why can't I see,
You look like a nine, but you're probably a three.
I got the Fort Lee Blues, I got the Fort Lee Blues,
Fight with depression and you'll always lose,
You live in a barracks with 300 dudes,
I got the Fort Lee Blues.
Also, it gives me a good month and a half to keep blogging. Yippee.