As late as last week, I was being told that I wouldn't be going to a certain Army school until May or June. Yesterday I got a call, and was told "You report Friday."
I'm currently going insane. The dog is freaking out. And my wife, God bless her, is patiently dealing with me running around packing.
"HONEY! WHERE ARE MY BLACK GLOVES?!?!?!?!"
"You put them in your black dress coat, dear."
"HONEY! WHERE ARE MY DRESS SOCKS?!?!?!?!"
"I put them on the bed, dear."
"HONEY, I NEED FOUR SETS OF ACU'S! WHERE'S MY FOURTH SET OF ACU'S?!?!?!?!"
"They're in the wash, dear. They were dirty."
I figure at about midnight she's just going to club me over the head and put me in bed. And by the way, you can consider this your light posting alert for the next six weeks.
UPDATE: The wife just read this post, and asked "What time am I supposed to club you over the head?"
My dear sweet wife who I couldn't live without: "OK. Let the midnight clubbings begin!"