It's Friday night. I have a pack of Twizlers, all the alone time I can handle, and 750ml of White Russian fun. It's about to get crAZY...

Forecast for next week: Sham. I have CPX gate gaurd starting Tuesday from 1800 to 0600. Sound like I drew the short straw? Think again. I don't go to work the day my shift starts, or the day after. Meaning, I drew the biggest, longest, fattest straw of the company. A little bit of my four-day weekend gets eaten-up by it, but to be honest, it's worth it.

In other events, the new platoon sergeant is doing quite a damn fine job of shaping soldiers into what they are inteded to be. I predict change for the best for the platoon. I foresee all the motivation and pride I had at Basic returning and finding reason. I'll also be getting in my schooling soon. Correspondence Courses, Soldier of the Month boards...it's coming.

This is what I asked for, and I'm thankful to have it. But for now, I'm going to relax in the comfort of my room and a bottle waiting to be emptied. Maybe I should talk to myself in a Russian accent while realizing how great it is to be a loser.

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