The normal answer

I've been working like a crazy man the last couple of weeks.  Putting in hours the normal individual wouldn't consider sane.  But it's done.  Or at least at a temporary standstill. I started writing an article about the time spent.  It wasn't worth a shit.  I haven't moved on.

I started writing, and it seemed like a good thing.  Then I realized I sounded like a whiny little bum.

Too much "oh poor me".

And another part of me started speaking up.

"What would haji do?"  Do they care that you haven't slept in 36 hours?  Are you still sane?

When your friends die, what's your excuse?  Did you do your best, or did you roll over like a little bum?

What could you have done?  Why are you living a life of regret?  Grab the wheel and force the ship in the direction you want it to go.  Damn the torpedoes.

Quit making excuses.  Grab the wheel.  Put your back in to it.

And if it isn't moving, start kicking it.  Kick until it moves.  Make it move.

"Does haji care you had a bad day?"

"Does haji care you haven't slept?"

Move the damn wheel.

Make it move.

Haji will kill you and not think twice.  He will drop a bomb on your day and completely fuck your world.

Adapt.  Improvise.  Overcome.

Don't let that asshole keep you from your goals.

Don't be an excuse.   Be an answer.





Dedicated to 3/4 and 3/5.  The assholes that saved my ass in a firefight.  Because when I was weak, they were strong.

Ooh rah.