I kicked day 8 square in the junk.
My friend said Sean isn't going to know who this tough chick is when he gets back. He'll know. I've always been tough with him. Therein lies the problem. I never have any trouble telling him anything, but everybody else...I'm a chicken.
I ripped someone a new one today. She earned it. She deserved it. She gave it and I gave it right back. She actually had the nerve to say she didn't understand why "SEEN" couldn't call from Afghanistan. "People call from Afghanistan all the time," she says.
I will have her job. I am not being vindictive, she just treated me horribly. More horribly than I've ever been treated by anyone, ever. When I spoke with another representative, he said I was not overreacting. When I replayed our conversation, he said, and I quote, "If I knew who it was, I would punch them in the back of the head for you." I like him. I hope he doesn't get in trouble when they pull the tapes. In this economy, with unemployment as high as it is, there's no call for being ugly to people you know nothing about. Granted, I know nothing about her. All I know is that this is the second time I've had issues with this woman. I don't care WHAT is going on, you should not talk to people the way she was talking to me. GRR.
Moving on. This bold me is awesome. It is such a release to just say what I'm thinking. I didn't stumble over my words. I didn't forget what I wanted to say. I just spewed forth like Old Faithful, saying what needed to be said. It was awesome.
Mr. Feefs, writing his Dad a letter. If you click on the picture, you might be just as thoroughly impressed with his letters as I. He's quite the perfectionist, that one.
Speaking of letters, Sean's address is now available should anyone wish to send him a care package. He's not very specific with his list of needs. He said he's set for now. I know my procrastinating husband is not factoring in the four weeks it takes to get a box to him, so I've got a box already ready to go first thing in the morning.
I got to IM with him tonight. It was the most we've spoken since he left. He's so sweet. When I asked him what he needs/wants, all he did was tell me things that the injured soldiers might want while they're waiting to be transported. That's my man. Already he's telling me he's seen things he can't talk about yet and they haven't even hit the heavy fighting. The terrorists are still hiding in the mountains, waiting on warmer weather to attack our boys. I guess Mohammad doesn't give extra virgins for killing in the cold?
Sean said he's safe. He'll never have to go "outside the wire"-meaning he'll stay on base where they're protected by Marines for his entire stay. Hopefully. If he listened to my dad, he made a friend and gave him a hammer. Should his hand ever rise to volunteer for anything, said friend has been instructed to smack said hand with said hammer.
I sensed a little bit of anger. He said his trauma skills will be going to waste this deployment, but he should be a shoe-in for anesthesia school. I don't know what he meant by they're wasting his skills. I guess they just aren't using him to the extent they should be. Imagine that. The military wasting resources...Shocking.
Anywho, I'm rambling. I had my cable cut off and now I can't sleep. I feel like a teenager with a new crush after IM-ing with Sean. My heart is all a-flutter. I love that man. I'm going to have happy, happy dreams tonight.