Monday minus 63 days

If it weren't for the fact that I know that this will all end in two months, it would be the most ordinary starts of routine work weeks. A harried accountant negotiating morning commute on the Mass Pike, while checking with the office, eating left-over pizza and slugging coffee. Yes, I'm stuck in a thick traffic snarl and am in danger of missing my morning status meeting - such a scene that has been routinely repeated over the last 10 years. It's a sequence of muscle-memory that feels automatic. But what had previously been a routine is now merely a transition. And what had barely warranted notice is now savoured. I arrive at the headquarters of my tech client with 5 minutes to spare. After the briefing, I take a second to absorb the clean and pristine surroundings, which include a modern and stylish building with finely manicured grounds of this Fortune 100 company. Everyone dressed in their finest business casual apparel. I've spent many long days and late nights at this worksite over the past two years, but today it feels different.

Yesterday I was working in windowless room cleaning and inspecting the M-16s and M-9s of my battalion's "arms room." Fingers oily, hands filthy, knuckles nicked and buried in the tedium of wiping down bolt carriers rubbing-in CLP.

It's all coming to head over the next several weeks. There were briefings at drill this weekend shedding more light on our upcoming MOB and deployment. Reality is setting in as emergency numbers were shared.

Friday we jet off to So Cal, to see family, friends and old buddies. An SC game at the Coliseum, dinner at Javier's in Laguna Beach, some beach time with close friends. And there'll be time to show my girl some old stopping grounds in Arcadia. It's all another chance to create some lasting memories that I'll be longing to relive 6 months from now, while enduring 140 degree afternoons on the FOB.