18 months feels like fucking eternity...

damn, i am hit-or-miss at best when it comes to posting lately.

i have to say, as the date of my wife's impending deployment looms nearer and nearer, my emotions become a bigger and bigger jumble.

it's not to say that i am not going to tackle this running, and do well, and survive and all of that. and i know my friends will "rally 'round the forces" so to speak, and make sure i am getting regular breaks, and adult human contact, and my mom has a number of summer odd-jobs to keep me busy and in flash money, but it is going to feel like someone is taking a chunk of me and flying it to points east for four (possibly six) months.

and i know that that is all sappy and silly, but i really can't help it, that is how i feel.

so, even though the chronological number of the song is wrong, the sentiment is the same: i won't breathe for 18 months.

as a funny aside, and to boost my mood a bit, i think i am going to begin adding labels for my posts, in the way that only darth sardonic can.

darth sardonic