Yes…I’ve said it many times, but it’s always true. Pancakes make everything better.
I had a rough day and was craving some kind of ridiculous cheat meal like nothing else. Froyo. Steak. Bacon. Cheese. WINE. Somehow, I managed to resist the urge to face-plant in a bowl of butter and opted for pancakes instead…with scrambled egg whites on top to add a little extra warmth and protein. Totally *should* have been whole eggs with runny yolks…but I suck like that. Whatever.
Truth be told, I’ve been having a lot of rough days lately and that’s the main reason my blog action sucks ass right now. Sorry, guys. But I figure I owe some kind of explanation, so here it goes.
I’m going through a lot of changes all at once. I have a new job that is extremely demanding and draining (but rewarding, too!). We’re getting ready to move…again…in two weeks…and this time we have to totally to everything ourselves (no free movers courtesy of Uncle Sam). Ross and I are both finding ourselves traveling a lot lately, too, mostly for work but also for all kinds of other reasons both good and bad (ah, wedding season). And biggest of all, I’m getting ready to get out of the Army.
Yep, that’s right. I won’t get into details, but my time has come to hang up the uniform for good. I’m pretty damn excited to start a new life and find a new job, finish my master’s degree, and explore *real* life. But I’m also scared to death. In my entire adult life, the military is all I’ve ever known. I signed my name on the dotted line two weeks after I graduated high school and from there on out, Big Army did the rest. I’ve never had to worry about where I was going to live or where my next meal would come from. I was beaten into the ground, both literally and figuratively, but I wouldn’t be half the woman I am today if it weren’t for the lessons and experiences I was given. I spent a year getting shot at, too, and it changed me in ways I still can’t explain. I’ve come to make some of the closest friends I will ever have in my life, and I’ve felt the pain of losing them in combat and watching their flag-draped caskets descend into the ground.
“I, I, I…” Sorry. Main thing here is that there’s a lot going on and most of it was short notice. My leaving the Army wasn’t exactly my choice–**don’t worry, I’m not in trouble**–and took me by surprise. (I won’t get into specifics, not yet). I still have about 9 months to a year left to get my feet under me, but it’s still a big change for someone like me who thrives on ritual and routine. So here I am, trying every minute to make sense of what is in store for me and what my future holds. With a mouthful of pancake.