Odd thought. I need to pack some summer clothes for the three weeks I'll be at home, and then the other clothes I need to be available (instead of in the attic) will be winterest clothes, for when I come back in December. In Texas, it will not be cold for a long time. When I went to drill in Chattanooga in February, Staff Sgt. Vineyard was talking about another soldier who had just returned from his medical training in Fort Sam Houston, and said it was around a pleasant seventy degrees there. I will need a sweater at most, for the weekends I'm not in uniform.
How strange to know so far ahead of time.
I think of my return most often rather than the period of testing itself, possibly because I do know what to expect when I return, and I do not know what training will be like.
But what a pleasure to know a continuity of homes, and activities. I just hope my brain doesn't rust, and I do not become rough.
That's the thing that has been bothering me most recently: the language, the manners and conversation topics of other soldiers. I've heard it already, and it's not all bad. I enjoy them for other people, I can be amused and interested in them easily. But even avoiding swearing doesn't eliminate hearing it from others, and the presence of those words at the top of my mind. Not to mention the desire to succeed in what has been for centuries a strictly male business typically results in a brash sort of confidence; a kind of "in your face" feminity. It's not that the girls are unconscious of such differences --they're more than willing to prove they're women, but not exactly in a delicate manner. And there's always the need to be tougher than the next guy, as if it were a proof of equality.
I bought my first formal the same day I got my first uniform, and I was pleased with the contrast. Just as I must be both citizen and soldier, I am to be both a lady and a private. The difficulty comes from being both at once. I'm afraid of losing track of the first while learning the latter. Just as there's a certain ashamed fear that being strong and muscular somehow detracts from a womanly appearance. (I blush and hide my face; yes, though I love feeling powerful I can't help wondering. It's not as though it matters to anyone I know of, however.)
I should be studying for Microcomputer; honestly I don't much care about the class. Excepting my GPA.