The Army

I haven’t felt inspired to write lately; the past couple of weeks have been more about survival, perseverance and patience. I’ve felt like I am going crazy at work.

 

A trail of thoughts started after meeting a five year old at a Christmas party in Stockholm last weekend. The young boy with long brown hair looked at me and said:

–You’re weird!

 

He eagerly awaited my reply, but all I could think about was the fact that he might be right, hence my lame reply; “No I’m not, you’re the one who is weird.” He instantly disagreed, obviously, and I refrained from starting a heavy discussion about it.

 

Having gone to work, changed into my green uniform and spent the past five weeks in a truck, I’ve lived the sort of Groundhog Day Bill Murray experienced in the film with the same name. The kid at the party had seen straight through me. I’ve been going bonkers lately and he is the only one who’s noticed.

 

I’ve never felt so much stress from doing nothing it seems. With no outlet for my creative energy at work, I’ve been climbing the walls in my flat, as well as at the gym.

 

During a technical class at motor school last week, I suddenly felt a shooting pain in my leg. An hour later, a nurse informed me that a small vein in my calf had broken. Just like that. The big and sore bruise has almost faded now. Still, it makes me wonder if my body is trying to make me realise something concerning the impact of the Army, which my mind can rise above.

 

The attitude in the military is to shut up and take the pain, the cold, or the boredom of monotony or intensity and ignore it, or take it like a man. When I’m cold and put clothes on, people ask what I will wear when it gets cold. That’s the attitude. It’s tough and dry. Shaken, not stirred.

 

I passed the driving test today. The license is mine. Despite having my veins exploding – it is finally mine.

 

It is possible that the kid in Stockholm took a quick look at my pink dress and newly dyed red hair, and thought weirdo! That’s the beauty with all people, you just never know - unless you ask them. It is also true that I do enjoy being in control of the wheels and planning my driving, I just hate being told where to go without a sensible explanation. And I prefer stirring things up, rather than taking it like a coward, or as they say in the Army: a man.

 

Tonight I’m celebrating with Bill. Groundhog Day is over.