How I Spent My Mid-Life Crisis

When some men turn 40, they might buy a sports car, others change jobs in some dramatic way, and still others decide it is time for a trophy wife.
In my case, the Spyder is still OK (though not as OK as it used to be), I have a great job on Xbox, and I've had my trophy wife for 23 years already...so what to do?

How about I join the Army?
It wasn't quite as spur of the moment as all that. I spent a year losing 80 pounds and getting into shape, then many more months of negotiation and being poked and prodded in various ways. Now here I am, once again a sergeant, but this time in the Army Reserve. Specifically, Company A, 448th Civil Affairs Battalion at Fort Lewis. Hoo-ah! <ahem>
 
My overall goal is a commission, but I was rejected (and yes, it was as painful as it sounds) in my first run through the Direct Commissioning process as a civilian, so I went back in at my prior rank and will try that again next year.
(As it turns out, there are a bunch of budgetary reasons about why it is bad to apply for a direct commission in the Spring phase rather than the Fall phase. Would have been good if someone had clued me into that.)
In the meantime, I'll be going to Warrior Transition Course (WTC) on October 4. This is where people from other services learn to be Army men. I was originally scheduled for December 28, then they canceled that class and were going to move me to November 3, finally settling on October 4 - with 2 week's notice!
So if you are looking for me in October, I’ll be somewhere around here…

Frankly, I'm both excited and nervous. Excited for the M16, M240, grenade and AT4 experience. Nervous because the key to doing well in these kinds of situations is to just do exactly what you're told without thinking about it - which is a lot harder when you are 42 than when you are 17. It's only 5 weeks - what could go wrong?
So I've been scrambling around making sure everything is arranged. I've put in my military leave of absence at work - so they will keep paying me (thanks Microsoft, couldn't do this without that) and that I've handed off important household affairs to my ever-patient and enduring spouse - like management of the Netflix queue.
No sooner did they spring the new date on me than I got these aches and pains - like you get in the first half mile of a run as your body tries to talk you out of running. Those have passed. I am afraid of getting sick before I go, so I'm pounding vitamins.

So off we go, again, into the wild blue yonder…(crap, I’ve messed up already)