There’s a lot of things on my mind. I got back to Djibouti, Africa on the 25th of Feb. I guess I got kind of lucky, seeing how I got stuck in Baltimore for 3 days and Germany for another 2. I was smart enough to think that I was going to fly on a straight commercial flight to Djibouti, Africa, from Germany on. I was wrong. I was stuck in military planes, C-141, C-130, and C-17. So I had a genius plan to bring nothing but shirts to the trip. By the time I made my way to Djibouti, I was wearing all 4 shirts. I got sick at Baltimore. I had the massive cold and headache. I think it was from all the traveling and hange in weather and time. Half the time I don’t think my brain even knew what time zone I was in. Within 36 hours, though, I was running 5 miles on the trail here. I mean, I don’t like running to begin with, and I was really feeling not great… I wasn’t faking it. I was coughing up mucus every 5 seconds, I couldn’t even breath, and my brain was tumbling around in my head. Then we did it again 2 days later. Now, I’m feeling much healthier, but back then, I was going through some tough times.
I had myself convinced that Djibouti is going to a fun place to be after my leave. In fact, I was looking forward to it, because I was really tired of traveling after Korea and Berkeley and LA and Baltimore. I just couldn’t just stay in one place for 14 days. But I got here, having that mindset, and I was wrong. I didn’t want to do anything. I hated the food, the showers, the runs, the uniforms, and I sure as hell didn’t want to work. I missed home, I was depressed, and I started to look at my fellow comrades as a work buddy and nothing more. I lost a lot of the motivation. But I’m working back up to it now. I already feel like I’m ready to go on cruise control again, but not yet… not just yet. I got too spoiled on my 14, 15 days of fame.
The sudden realization of the fact that we are indeed wearing the uniform of war demoralizes me. I cannot seem to accept the truth, and I constantly struggle with my religious beliefs, with my own maturity, my social skills. I am easily sidetracked and easily annoyed. Perhaps Porcayo was right when he told me that I’m arrogant.
Miceli got kicked out of our platoon today. Yesterday he created a scene, someone suggested he go to Arifjan instead, then, and he said he would much rather be there than here. CPT G took that opportunity, and Miceli’s flying out of here tomorrow, less than 24 hours after his request. I guess it’s kind of funny how we all knew before he did. He was obviously in tears, and the poor guy has such a hard time trying to appear strong and unaffected by it all. I think he sees the reality that he took us for granted. As much as he hates us and dislikes us, he won’t get into another unit like us ever again.