Working for the Weekend!

So the song is a complete clique...but really, what are we doing for the entire week? Working for the weekend of course! We work hard (or hardly work) for those five days of dread so we can kick back, relax, and enjoy ourselves while we forget the aches and pains of being real adults with real jobs. And what is even better than those super lame-o two day teases that we call the weekend? Its those extra long, drawn out "weekends" we term "VACATION!!!"

Okay, okay, I admit, vacation seems a thing of the past for me. Nowadays, leave takes me home to see family and sometimes friends because that's what people do when they actually leave home behind and strike out on their own...they vacation back to the place they've been trying to escape from since they first started walking. Humans are naturally incredibly ironic.

The process has become quite simple: Step 1. Sign out on leave. Step 2. Drive for several hours, get stuck in traffic, arrive late into the drinking process to meet friends in the city. Step 3. Play catch up. Step 4. Text message every person I know still residing within a 50 mile radius. Step 5. Wake up, backtrack to go home, visit niece and nephew, sister, mother. Step 6. Get bored, return to city, cause ruckus, crash at buddy's place for a few days. Step 7. Return to base. Ahh, but integrated into every single step of the way there is one important note....the broken record of conversation you have with family and family friends....because really, they ask the same damn questions every time. There are three distinct repeat offenders:

"So where are you now?"
"What are you doing these days?"
"Where are you headed next?"

Any combination of these questions with any others are usually followed by some statement about a distant family member or friend of the acquaintance who is somehow associated with the military....9 times out of 10 its the cousin's neighbor's godson who is a Special Forces Green Beret Airborne Ranger who visited for the weekend and was telling them stories of glorious valor on the battlefield....because I care that your cousin's neighbor's godson survived a brush with death from that paper-cut he suffered while filing papers in the 7th SF Group's S1 shop. I'm sorry but find me a real McCoy Green Beret who comes home and tells war stories to friends and family...the real heroes don't and many times won't talk about the horrors they've lived through.

Its not fault of the people I encounter, they mean well and are, for the majority, extremely military ignorant. Its just how it goes, and I try the utmost give them what they want...the standard update and an optimistic smile from this homegrown American soldier. Hooah

Even worse than this is the frail little woman who notices the subtle signs of my affiliation with the military and feels the need to tell me how her son just left for his second tour with the Marine Corp in Iraq, her daughter used to be a Marine but is now a disable vet fighting the VA for medical attention. This is where you just let them talk and vent, tell them God bless and wish them luck, and exit swiftly. Its not that I don't care, seriously, but I don't have the time of day to spend with ever mother who sacrifices her family for the service of our nation.

By the time I get to leave and come back to the current and wonderful world of TRADOC, I actually miss it, and the several hours on the road to get back are more like and countdown to sanity...of course, that is, until I actually get back............................and the whole cycle resets.

Everybody's working for the weekend
Everybody wants a little romance
Everybody's goin' off the deep end
Everybody needs a second chance, oh