Fucking fricking FRICK.

I'm stressing out pretty bad as the days slip through the cracks here. I'm procrastinating on going over to the rec center to cut my mile down. I don't know how I'm going to pass my 2-mile test on Saturday. It sounds doable, but then I actually get out on the track and I can barely run a fucking mile at all. I'm so fucking out of shape. Basic is going to be so hard. And everyone around me is so negative, it's really not helping at all. I KNOW I only have a week, okay? I'm extremely fucking aware of that. That's why I'm freaking the fuck out, God damn it. I just need to push myself a little harder and make sure I don't give in to the negativity, anyone else's or my own. I can not fail. I can not fail.

Oh man, OSUT is gonna be rough. Basically like 19 weeks of Basic. Jesus Christ. I can't believe I'm actually doing this. I must be out of my God damned mind. Ah well. At least I'll be healthier. A lot healthier. I wish I'd known how soon I was shipping though, I would have started running a lot sooner. You can't get back in shape in 11 days... now 8 days. FRICK.

There is now a constant slight panic fluttering in my chest cavity. If I can pass my mile assesment tonight I'll feel better. I have my general orders down I think. That took like 5 minutes. And I'll have the creed down before I go. And I've always had rank pretty good but I should look at Officers again. I'm gonna be as ready as anyone could be with this amount of time to prepare. All I want to do though is sit here watching Venture Bros and drinking coke and pretend this isn't happening. I have so much to do. Frick!