120 days

I’m gonna try not be whiny, here. Keeping it all in context, this is the best deployment one could ask for and I’m not getting shot at. Considering what some of our guys have endured in Iraq and Afghanistan keeps me in check- my problems here are pretty trivial, really.

Doesn’t mean I can’t get homesick, though.

I figured out when I was active duty that 90 days seemed to be about the perfect amount of time to be deployed. My first TDY was 120 days, and it was just torture. My second was 90, and it was a piece of cake. A 90-day rotation just means it’s a short adventure. It almost feels like summer break when I was in school. It’s that last month that’s just a killer…

Funny thing is, when I say I’m homesick I don’t mean for my home town of Tucson, or even where I currently reside in Las Vegas. I just want to be back in the United States. I couldn’t be more done with this country, and it’s reaffirmed my lack of interest in the African continent. I’m a spoiled pampered American, I admit it, and just want to get home. I want to eat food that tastes like something and is cooked well. I want to drive where people stay in their lanes (well, ok, but more than they do here). I want to be closer to my loved ones, and be able to talk to them on the phone with a reliable connection. The complete lack of motivation or work ethic coupled with a distinct lack of common sense or thought in this country is driving me mad.

You know why Europeans come to Seychelles on holiday? Because it’s beautiful and closer than Hawaii. You know why Americans go to Hawaii? Because it’s beautiful, closer, and better. There are decent services, work ethic, and food. It’s cleaner and doesn’t reek of stagnant water and rotting fish. Stores don’t stock razor blades but forget to have razors in which to use them. The African mentality and British food makes me glad I didn’t travel here on my own dime. If I’d have come to Seychelles at my own expense and burned precious hours of vacation to do so, I’d be pissed.

But I’m whining. Deep breaths. Chill out… Think about how nice my socks are… I’m not even kidding, the best thing about this trip is my Merino wool socks. I got ’em from REI, just the store brand, and they were still expensive but worth every penny. If I didn’t have my laptop, there are still piles of books laying about to read and keep myself entertained. (Frankly, I should make more time to read now, anyway.) If I couldn’t type away here, surely I could find paper and writing implements so I could get my thoughts down somewhere for my own sanity. But my socks are downright luxurious. You may not notice or care that much if you’re still in the USA, or have decent shoes. But if you ever find yourself in the unenviable situation or wearing a pair of socks more than once between washes, Merino is the only way to go. Best investment somebody “in the field” could possibly make.

Wow. My socks just cheered me up! How bad is it that my socks are the best thing on the whole island?

4 thoughts on “120 days

  1. That’s funny. You are overdue to come home if socks are making you happy becuae who would even wear socks in that heat?

  2. You can’t be any more spot on about the socks. The most important part of your clothes should be a comfortable pair of socks. You are going to be walking around all day in them and if anything can ruin your day it’s horrible socks.

  3. There is nothing wrong with being home-sick. After a while all the little nuanced differences are going to gang up on you. It makes perfect sense to get tired of a strange place where the way of life is so different.

    Just name the socks Black Tooth and White Fang and you’ll be ok.

  4. Ditto that about socks. The most important comfort item I bring with me when I go hiking, winter mountaineering, or skiing (whether its for a single day or overnight) is a fresh pair of socks sealed in a zip-lock bag. There is nothing quite as refreshing as peeling off a gross pair of socks and slipping on a comfy dry pair at the end of a day. There are many inconveniences that can be overlooked in light of a fresh pair of socks.

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