172,800 seconds of relaxation. Aren't you jealous?

I have a small entry this morning to make. There isn’t much I have to say in terms of exciting activity or intense situations. No, I simply wanted to state that I should be making 500k a year, drive a Lamborghini, marry Jessica Alba, win the World Series of Poker, and be touring with my two man ukulele band.

Because, in fact, hell hath definitely frozen over.

It’s snowing today in Baghdad. Someone please call Al Gore, and have him send his crack staff of meteorological analysts over here.

I’ll take refit as an acceptable substitute instead of all the luxurious lifestyles noted above. 48 hours away from the real worry of being on the front line each week and a half. I have singlehandedly increased stock twenty-two cents per share in Proctor and Gamble by purchase of their personal hygiene products last night.

Have you ever lathered up seventeen times in one shower? Have you ever washed your beanie cap in the bathroom sink using 97 cent Suave strawberry shampoo? How about stared intently at a wall of provocative words and inane humor while ‘dropping the kids off at the pool?’ What would you do if you surreptitiously learned the secret of Chuck Norris’ power?

I would get packed for another nine days of mission cycle. That’s what I would do.

Tony