Today we played soccer for PT, and had a great time. We were all feeling pretty good, and laughing and messing around, which sometimes in the day-to-day it's easy to lose. Actually, my team won, which was pretty cool, but we weren't really keeping score. The word is that tomorrow is another drug test, which we seem to have frequently. As a funny coincidence, I just picked up some cranberry juice at the store today- not that I need to cover anything up, I just like cranberry juice, and being in the store made me think of it. I wish I could stay on a high note (whoops, another unintentional drug reference- I'm on a roll tonight!), but know that sometimes the stress of life gets to me. I'm trying to remember, it'll get better, and things will work out in the long run. In the meanwhile, there's the gym. I've been trying to make more of an effort to get down there and put some time in, as not only does it burn through stress and tension, it gets me in prime physical shape for kicking ass and taking names. I've been going to one particular gym on post- there are several, each one with somewhat different facilities, although the indoor pool is closed because the ceiling tiles kept falling on people. At any rate, there is one in particular that's kind of the 'guy's gym'- cinderblock walls, a big basketball court and rubber floors in the large weight room. It also has a large area dedicated to weight training, although large muscles do not necessarily a fit person make. It's kind of dim, echo-y and generally reminds me of some old boxing gym somewhere. I love it. There's always alternatives if you want something a little more modern, and some people do. Personally, I prefer the old-school gym. I know that no matter how much things suck, I can go hit the bench and crank out a few sets and begin to feel better. As long as I don't hurt myself doing it, or overdo it.
Apart from that, I had an ammo handling class today which was actually pretty interesting. I can now haul anything and everything save nuclear material. I don't actually know how nuclear material is moved, or where we would get it from, so I guess it doesn't matter. Interestingly enough, bullets of any type are considered pretty safe to transport, and things like grenades, explosive shells, powder and all that are considered somewhat more hazardous. The rule in the Army is CYA- cover your... assets. So there's a paper trail a few miles long documenting everywhere that ammo goes, and where it's supposed to go. Apart from this, the cardinal rule is don't do anything stupid. Yes, they really teach us that. Don't, for example, bang on the back of a .50 caliber machine gun round with a pair of pliers. Guess what- it explodes! Basically it boils down to follow established procedure, as it's there to ensure safe transport. Deviate from this at your own risk, and unfortunately, at the risk of anyone near you. It has happened, the instructor tells me. That sucks, I tell the instructor. Agreed, says the instructor. But still, it's kind of comforting to know that if I'm hauling ammo, I'm not planning on doing anything unsafe, and following procedure to the letter, both for purposes of preserving my own hide, but more importantly, for the people I work with. I wouldn't want my screw up to mean someone's not going to enjoy meatloaf on Sunday. Or whatever it is they do on Sunday, you get the point. Well, I should go take a shower and count the bruises after today's merriment. But in all seriousness, I had a blast. I almost always do at PT- I figure there are two ways to look at it- one, you have to be there. The other, you have an opportunity to take time away from your desk to get in shape and make yourself (in my case) even hunkier than before. And besides, after a while you get to enjoy running and pushing your body beyond what it could do before.
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