Home's where you hang your hat.
So I'm home now on leave. Weird vibe going on. My brother's decided to sell the place. I have to go through about 28 years of accumulated crap to figure out what to keep and what to donate. It's tough in a way. There are a lot of memories here. That, and after its sold I'd be homeless outside of a military barracks. Which is strange. No matter where I was or what was going on, I always knew I could come back here and there would be a place for me. Now there won't be. I can expect a nice chunk of money to come my way. I won't have to worry about bills anymore. But that doesn't match up to having roots.
What is it about doctors, or nurses, and girls who's parents were in the military? For some reason I keep drawing these girls to me. Not that I mind, but its weird when I make some comparisons between people and how they have some common factors. Maybe it's because they have some perspective? Most people hear you're in the military and they figure that you're cracked because of some PTSD nonsense. Or they thank you profusely. Or they just assume you're one of the dregs of society, one step above selling crack on a corner or stealing clothes out of laundromats for cigarette money. As for there being a correlation of health field workers? Couldn't tell you.
What is it about doctors, or nurses, and girls who's parents were in the military? For some reason I keep drawing these girls to me. Not that I mind, but its weird when I make some comparisons between people and how they have some common factors. Maybe it's because they have some perspective? Most people hear you're in the military and they figure that you're cracked because of some PTSD nonsense. Or they thank you profusely. Or they just assume you're one of the dregs of society, one step above selling crack on a corner or stealing clothes out of laundromats for cigarette money. As for there being a correlation of health field workers? Couldn't tell you.