I just came back from running an hour ago. I wasn't really sweating that much in my black T-shirt and black shorts. My black T-shirt says, "I love New York!" It's just a cool work out shirt- I don't really have any emotional ties to New York; I just know my little sister was thoughtful enough to buy me a shirt that fits. As I walked in and my little sister told me that I had some post cards from the military, I made a phone call and acknowledged to her that I was in trouble.
She started laughing and then I said that I just needed to do some drug testing. I was on the phone for awhile while she was cooking some Christmas treats; she became a little annoyed that I had my sun glasses on the whole time and even ate lunch while wearing it and stayed on the phone. Yeah, that's life. I told her that I need to treat her like an officer because she's a civilian that I am forced to respect- this is if I stick to my American soldier ideals. I'm in it to serve the civilians of this country, even if I think some of them act like turds.
It's the sacrifices people make to ensure that a country runs smoothly. We're grateful for them- I know that I'm pretty grateful for the battle buddies I spent some time with at a military installation.
Academy of Scrappy Credible Undergraduate Desire
