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Well, here I am again on Staff Duty, shirking my responsibilities more than usual to work on this web page, when where I really want to be is at home with my sick baby. She's finally getting better now that she's on a second round of antibiotics and I missed another day and a half of work. I don't give a rat's ass about it, either. It's a shame that I'm perceived as a shitty soldier by some of the powers-that-be around here, but it's all the same to the Army what idiot does this job. Anybody can do this job. Not anybody can be my baby's mother. At least, that's what I tell myself. I just hope my baby feels the same way. After all, she has spent her entire life getting dumped off on sitters for twelve hours a day while I've gone to some job I detest. And then when we get home it's wash some dishes, cook dinner, too tired to go for another pony ride around the house, too dark and cold and miserable to go outside, and it seems like she'd rather watch TV anyway. I don't feel like a good mother, and I feel like hitting people in the mouth when they aim their well-meaning platitudes in my direction. I'm just so damn tired. I'm in a foreign country I'm not even appreciating because I can't get out of this crummy little Americanized burg. And I'm so ridiculously lonely that I let encyclopedia salesman into the house, when I already own a set of encyclopedias. And then I let some friendly unsuspecting guy take me out to lunch, knowing I'm going to have to shoot him down if he wants to go anywhere with the whole thing -- no way in hell am I about to start that dating crap up again. Besides, what's left of me is still hung up on impossibles back in the sunnier climes of the Southeast US. Not that I write.
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