A typical trip to the bathroom

So, I don't know how many of you are in the military, or if anyone is even reading these silly little rantings, BUT, for those of you who ARE reading them and who AREN'T in the military, I thought I'd share a little something out of my every day military life in Afghanistan.  I work during the night, so I sleep during the day.  Which is fine, in my nice, warm, dark place of solitude and utter bliss......... until the absolute worst thing could happen.. I've apparently had too much to drink the night (aka morning) before I went to bed, and now I have to leave my sacred bed of slumber.  Most of the time, I am enjoy a succulent dream, full of fine dining and well, my husband, so I tend to push aside the "feeling".  But alas, when the "feeling" starts entering into my dreams, and I nearly wet myself, I am forced to venture out into the world, to find release.  Now, for most of you at home, this means, taking a whole ten steps (at most), on a carpeted floor, to the glorious master bath, where it may be slightly more chilly than the cozy bed you just left.  Unfortunately, this isn't a luxury that soldiers get to enjoy during deployments.  Before you can even leave your happy little place of refuge, you must make sure you are presentable to the outside world.. by the standards of the Army.  What I mean by this, is that you must first make sure that you are in the proper uniform.. and don't forget to tuck in that Army PT shirt!  After you are fully dressed in that drab grey garb, you must then (as females) make sure that your hair is put into a tight, little, God-awful bun.  This then completes the Army requirements for exiting the living areas.  Before I can leave to prevent a little "accident" however, I must remember, that if I wish to retain my eyesight, to ensure that I don't in fact enter the men's bathroom, I will be needing my super awesome, not too girly, sunglasses.  There, that's better.  Now, off into the exceedingly bright day, which is MUCH colder than it should be at 2 in the afternoon.  As I stumble, around the tent, across the gravel (and I don't mean that piddly gravel that we have in the states... these rocks are GINORMOUS!), and another 100 yards later, I finally reach the women's latrine.  (And we won't even get into THAT terminology).  Once, I've finally reached the point of release, I have to make my journey back to my safe-haven.  Now, I am not sure why a person cannot visibly assess situations, but apparently the people here are not capable of that common sense quality.  So instead of recognizing the sleep lines all over my arms and face, or the sleepy sand in my eyes, there are those who will automatically assume that you sleep like any other normal person, (during the night), and will try with all their might to strike up their daily chit-chat conversation with you, whilst you are trekking (rather quickly at this point) back to the tent.  Surprisingly, a little grunt here or there, seems to satisfy their need for attention and eventually as you make it to the door, they leave you alone.  Back in bed, hair pulled down, ear plugs back in, I am finally able to pass into that blissful slumber, that my basal human needs took me from in the first place.  I look forward to a day when the simple things are once again mine.