My Navy Decision

                                                   Why I decided to join the Navy

I can’t say it was just one factor, but several played a handy roll in guiding me to this resolution.

My friend Dave planted the seed.

“Why don’t you join the military? At least then you can get out of your parents house.”

“I’m not joining the military. Pffff, yeah right. Can you imagine?”

The seed sat over night and gave me a weird dream about my childhood friend from school. I only see this guy on facebook and I rarely chatted with him in high school, so it was very odd to have had such an explicit sexual dream about him. Especially since I’m almost positive he’s gay.

We were completely and utterly in love with one another. I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted to marry him. He met my parents after we had just fooled around. I was exposed for most of the dream because I couldn’t button my shirt up. Then there was a fat naked guy who kept getting in my way. The few times he wasn’t naked, he was wearing overall’s.

When I woke up, I still felt in love with Mark. I looked for him on facebook and read his wall. I found out where he works. It turns out that he works in a company that manufactures pharmaceuticals. He’s developing new drugs to save lives.

Now here I am scrimping by, still living at home and constantly feeling sorry for myself – reading that the love of my life has chose a profession that I always found an interest in. I got this surge, this rush of excitement as I looked up what it would take to become a pharmacologist; A ridiculous amount of money and six years of college. There is no possible way for me to accomplish my dream.

Complete devastation over-took me. I felt I was having a melt down. My love for Mark went away and left no ground underneath me. Then I remembered Dave’s suggestion from the night before. The military was my answer. It’s my way out. The groundwork has been set.

That same day I go to work even less eager to massage than normal. It was bitter cold that day, so our break room felt like frozen tundra. They have a small portable heater in there. When I don’t have clients, I sit on the floor with my back against the heater. I hate the cold. I camp out right there on the floor with my cell phone, book and water bottle beside me. I keep my hoodie jacket on until I’m forced to take it off. My uniform is a mustard color short sleeve polo shirt with the logo in the upper left corner reading ME. I get a chill when my bare arms are exposed to the icy break room. Then I have to give a massage with my arctic cold hands. I really hate the cold.

Heater at work

 I wearily give several massages and head home.

On my way, I asked God what I should do with myself. And this is the honest to God’s truth – not lying when I write this; I asked, “God? What am I supposed to do? Join the military? What branch? Can you give me a sign?” I wasn’t expecting a sign, but hoping. I couldn’t believe my eyes when not even a minute later, a car pulls up in front of me on the highway with the license plate that reads “NAVY-11.” God not only told me to join the military, but was kind enough to suggest a branch.

Now can you see why I think the world revolves around me? I ask a question, and get an answer.

My friends want to go bowling tonight. I have to leave in a little bit.

I’m just starting to get enamored by this whole blogging community. I can understand the draw of it. I can see why others like it so much. I’ll write about that tomorrow maybe. For now I must change out of my crumpled uniform and put on the proper bowling attire.

I can’t help but to live in my own megalomaniac microcosm. The reason being is that so far the world has given me everything that I asked for. Who I am, where I live and what I do can all be traced back to a peculiar, but solid idea of my making. I can’t help my megalomaniac tendencies because there is too much proof that the world does in fact revolve around me.


Leave a comment

Filed under All about me, journal, Massage therapy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s