Pre-emptive Rank-up Speech
I rank up in a week and a half. To PFC. Big deal, I know. But I feel really good about life. I've gotten this far, and I look at my myspace page and my facebook page, and all the pictures I've taken over the past few years, and the messages and emails that I've sent... and I feel good about life. I sit, sipping my Americano (that's now warm - the perfect temperature for an Americano) and I feel good. I have three days of stubble on my face, and I'm going to get a haircut later today, and I really do feel good.
I'd like to thank my recruiter. SSG Eugene Kraemer from Kalispell, MT for calling me on the phone that "fateful day" and talking me into talking some more. So we talked and talked and eventually I'm here - Fort Gordon, GA - and studying like I've never studied before. Slowly becoming more and more adjusted to the waters of the SATCON life. In a few months (in my dreams) I'll be on the floor. Controlling high priority links out of the West Pacific. I can't really go into detail - I have a Top Secret clearance on the line. I'd love to tell you all about it, but there's only so much indulgence I can get away with.
The Feeling of Euphoria. In about six and a half months, its very likely I'll become a specialist. And that's hardly the blink of an eye away. I need to squeeze my schedule. I need to run here, run there... spend money on cabs and/or a car. Cars are supposed to be cheap in Okinawa (and it really would be an investment into my future). My schedule needs a squeezing because there is so much I need to fit. Less laying around feeling glum, more running around -- knowing I'm living the high life. Knowing there are only so many little yellow circles to eat before I run out of extra lives. I need to get to a plateau from which to look down at the world, and see all the happy little lives that people lead, while I starve and figure out how to help those who aren't truly happy.
And me. I need to help me be happy. I have a problem. I really don't care about myself. I want everyone to be happy, but I really don't care about me. There's not much I can do for myself. After I feel helpless -- after I feel like there's nothing else to do for the well-being of people in the world, I'll probably check into an asylum. A loony bin -- the 13th floor. That'll be my life.
:)
- Tread
* - * - *
a.k.a. PFC* LaBRANT
....REL
I'd like to thank my recruiter. SSG Eugene Kraemer from Kalispell, MT for calling me on the phone that "fateful day" and talking me into talking some more. So we talked and talked and eventually I'm here - Fort Gordon, GA - and studying like I've never studied before. Slowly becoming more and more adjusted to the waters of the SATCON life. In a few months (in my dreams) I'll be on the floor. Controlling high priority links out of the West Pacific. I can't really go into detail - I have a Top Secret clearance on the line. I'd love to tell you all about it, but there's only so much indulgence I can get away with.
The Feeling of Euphoria. In about six and a half months, its very likely I'll become a specialist. And that's hardly the blink of an eye away. I need to squeeze my schedule. I need to run here, run there... spend money on cabs and/or a car. Cars are supposed to be cheap in Okinawa (and it really would be an investment into my future). My schedule needs a squeezing because there is so much I need to fit. Less laying around feeling glum, more running around -- knowing I'm living the high life. Knowing there are only so many little yellow circles to eat before I run out of extra lives. I need to get to a plateau from which to look down at the world, and see all the happy little lives that people lead, while I starve and figure out how to help those who aren't truly happy.
And me. I need to help me be happy. I have a problem. I really don't care about myself. I want everyone to be happy, but I really don't care about me. There's not much I can do for myself. After I feel helpless -- after I feel like there's nothing else to do for the well-being of people in the world, I'll probably check into an asylum. A loony bin -- the 13th floor. That'll be my life.
:)
- Tread
* - * - *
a.k.a. PFC* LaBRANT
....REL
Labels: Americano, Fort Gordon, Kalispell, Okinawa, PFC LaBRANT, SATCON, SSG Kraemer
posted by Tread at 6:35 AM
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