Highs and Lows
Believe it or not, the past couple of days have been pretty good. It’s obvious that I’m going through some things right now, but I am on the road to recovery and maybe by the end of this deployment I will no longer be an angry black woman. I can’t make any guarantees, but I do promise to put some effort into it. I am sure it is far more amusing to read the half-psychotic rants of a lunatic, but this is not for your entertainment. It’s my therapy. I was told that nobody would be interested in reading anything positive I have to say. Sad to say that this is evidenced by my hit count. All the posts that have half a page of curse words have over 100 hits, while any post that says, “I’m happy” has zero.
Thanks for your support. Way to help out a battle buddy. And please note the heavy dose of sarcasm.
If you’re not interested in reading any of my positives, get lost.
So, the first good thing that happened is that they started the French classes. Half an hour into it, I had learned all of the more important swear words and I am now almost completely fluent, speaking like a true Parisenne. Okay, maybe not. She taught us the days of the week and some numbers, basically refresher for me since I took six years of French in junior and senior high school. I’m sticking with it because it’s something to do. It was advised that we should get hobbies and do something to better ourselves. Sure, why not. Like an inmate, I don’t have anything on my hands but time. Until they changed the laws, those assholes were leaving prison with law degrees and PhDs. No reason I shouldn’t do the same.
The second good thing is that I found one of those lame ass Harlequin novels in the Store. These are absolutely the worst novels ever written. So why, do you ask, would I be happy about finding something so dumb? I don’t know. I’ve always like to read them since I was a teenager. Sure, they set women’s liberation back about 50 years and the male hero is usually an abusive misogynist that manages to find love in the last four pages of the book, but what’re you gonna do? At least I’m reading. What are you doing with your time?
Side note: Whoever sent those in a care package, can you please send some more? The ones from the early 80s are the best. Usually I find them at the thrift store. Also, the trash.
The third good thing? I had a talk. I believe that everything happens for a reason and that God does not ever put more on you than you can bear. No, I’m not about to start waxing philosophical, but I truly do believe that. All these events took place at the right time so that I could have this talk that I so desperately needed.
First, I’m grateful because it was actually positive. It could have gone so much worse. This could have taken place three weeks ago, and only the good Lord knows how that would have turned out. It could have ended with me initialing here and signing there, and then some missing stripes and a few zeros off the end of my check, but it did not go that route.
I felt like someone was actually listening to what I had to say, even though I am clearly a lunatic right now. I’m also glad that I did not go crazy. I knew that something like this was going to happen eventually and I feared that I would go off the wall, like I usually do. I somehow managed to maintain some dignity and say what I had to say without losing my cool.
Afterward, I felt gads better. Like you just don’t even know. What I took away from this is that eventually there is going to be some change for the better. I think it might take some time but we’ll get there. I don’t think we’re going to get CHUs with en suite bathrooms and I don’t think the order to go home is going to come tomorrow, but there’s other things out there that might make this a little more bearable. I’m just going to hang on to that for right now.
And perhaps the best thing to happen today is that every port-a-pottie I went into was clean. What??? No, seriously. You have to count this as a good thing. You know what I’m talking about. You just finish lunch and you need to take care of some business and then there’s THAT staring up at your face, reminding you of the Pork Adobo you just stuffed in your craw. Or perhaps you stumble out of bed at 3AM because nature calls and when you open the door it’s SURPRISE! I have a present and it’s for you.
Who needs that? I didn’t even have to make random side trips over to the main building (where there’s indoor plumbing) to do my business. It’s so serious that it makes you wonder who the hell these people are and what is going on in the privacy of their own homes. I shudder to think.
Yeah, so that’s it.