I Like Fridays

Fridays are pretty good day round here. Most sections in the command take Friday off: logisticians never take a day off but we do take a slow start on Friday. It is more like a "casual Friday at the office" rather than a day off for us. I get to sleep in, go to work in civilian cloths (at first that wasn't a big deal to me but now it seems to be pretty important to me to wear something other than a uniform once a week. I don't know why, just is. Go figure?) maybe even watch a movie after dinner. It is a good day. The only draw back to Friday is that it Malaria pill day. That means I will toss and turn all night tonight and have dreams that the Farley Brothers would find strange. One of the Yahoos in the Four shop was commenting on how they are trying to link Meflequin (sp?) with brain deterioration. That got my attention. I knew they suspected it of causing psychotic episodes, but actual brain deterioration, that might be serious. I can handle a little psychotic behavior (My Bride would tell you that psychotic behavior would not be to far from my status quo). After all, I have always been perfectly willing to do whatever my Ham and Cheese Sandwich tells me to do. However, I can't afford to loose anymore brain cells, they are in short supply. I like to think that our Docs would not let us use anything that would turn us into raving lunatics, but their is always that nagging doubt in the back of my head (Maybe that's not doubt, maybe it is Meflequin eating my brain cells). Who knows, can't worry about that today cause its Friday!

Whoops, I digressed again. What was I talking about. Oh, yes, the joys of Friday. I managed to sleep in till about 8 this morning before the incessant beeping of construction equipment in reverse drove me from my rack. We got chow in last night (the provisions resupply flight seems to arrive at night most of the time) so the forklifts were running, rattling and banging all night last night taking the chow to the reefers (which for some reason are right in front of my hooch. Note to self: Fire my realestate agent). No big deal, it is a small price to pay to have actual cheese in the Ham and Cheese sandwiches. Have I mentioned just how much I like cheese? When you couple it with Ham and bread, it is just magic. I think I have mentioned it before, oh well. What actually drove me out of the hooch this morning was the public works crews trying to run prime power to the reefers. On the surface that is a good thing because maybe the incessant roar of the generators that power the reefers right in front of my hooch will be permanently silenced. WHOOHOOO! Peace at last, Peace at last. (It will be poetic irony if I find I can't sleep with out the 75 decibel roar to lull me to sleepy land). However, fear for my own hide that convinced me I needed to get up and relocate from the rack to the gym. They (they being local skinny contractors) were trying to maneuver a backhoe and a 20K all terrain fork truck in the confined space between my hooch and the reefers. I was convinced that if I didn't get up and get out immediately, then something large and industrial would come through the side or roof of my hooch.

I have to close this post now. My Ham and Cheese sandwich is demanding that I get back to work.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD