I once had a First Sargent that would scream at me from time to time that I needed to get my, “Head screwed on straight!” I would have been marching out of sequence or possibly absent-mindedly daydreaming when I was supposed to be filling sand bags or peeling potatoes. Whatever it was I did, there he would be, larger than life filling my entire line of sight with his face and my acute attention with his, by now, screaming voice.
I have to make some decisions about my life now, and the direction in which I want it to go, or the lack of direction thereof. My business has finally reached a point that I feel it could survive with little hands on supervision. I am tired. I have been driving for nearly 25 years now. I’m sure not getting any younger. I have two daughters that know my voice on a phone far better than they know me.
I don’t know, I’ve got to get busy. I got to get busy living, or get busy dying, one or the other. This standing here in the fork of the road sucks!
Yeah, it’s time I got my head screwed on straight.