Machismo

Flab,non existent muscle.

'Tis ridiculous! I'm supposed to be on status, 'excused upper limb activities' which means I shouldn't be using my arms for anything heavier than the spoon that provides me nourishment. Unfortunately, there seems to be something written in my genetic code that says I must have a part in the flexing of manly superiority that would probably be the equivalent of peacocks flaunting their plumage.

Volunteering to shift heavy boxes and allowing myself to be coaxed into an unnecessary route march. I don't know what it is that makes me so susceptible to coaxing that finds me in the most undesirable positions doing things that I thoroughly dislike.

I don't know. I shouldn't be carting around boxes that are bigger than me and bruise me more than I manage to damage them hurling them around. An out of shape soldier who has abstained from physical activity for 3 months shouldn't jump at loading up more than 15kg of weight and stomping around in the hot sun because of camaraderie because of the suggestion of getting soft if I didn't march.

I need a couch, with loud music, a foot bath and a listening ear. Preferably, the listening ear is into hair stroking as well. Ugh. I'm a pussy! I want to be able to luxuriate in that.

But no! There's no place for being a selfish pussy in an army camp. There's got to be plenty of macho grunting and masochistic tendencies when in comes to endurance and ugh. I hurt in so many different places from helping so many people carry stuff that consuming too much sugar is making everything worse. Thank you, and I think I'll go listen to music until ears bleed.