1st Lt Prifogle’s Blog

Ordinary days. That is what I will miss. Waking up next to my lover. Kissing him softly on the lips, not even waking him up, before finding my clothes scattered around the room and putting on a pair of cold jeans, stuffing my bra into the pocket of my jacket and sneaking out the front door without waking him or his roommate. I will miss the rush of cold air at 5 or 6 AM as I sneak back to my car for the three-minute drive back to my own rented house where I will turn on the water in the shower and wait the minute or two it takes to warm up – cursing the fact that I live in San Diego and I’m still cold when I wake up just like the old farm house I grew up in, in Indiana.

I will miss the fifteen-minute drive to work. Aware that I will probably be cut off at least once, probably more like 2 or 3 times, in the early rush hour traffic. I will miss the feeling of invincibility in my little red bug as I drive 80 mph north on the 15. I will miss playing with the radio trying not to get caught talking on my cell phone while I drive the lady bug onto base.

I will miss being able to stop at Starbucks on my way and the familiar baristas greeting me and telling me to have a good day. They don’t even know I’m a Marine. I am just another customer to them and one day I simply won’t come in anymore. I wonder if they will notice my absence? I wonder if they’ll miss making my grande non-fat, sugar-free carmel latte?

I will miss being able to be late to work on Fridays and trying to come up with a reason in case I get caught – ‘I had a medical appointment at Balboa hospital.’ I will miss smiling when I tell myself the real reason I was late – ‘I just couldn’t get out of bed. I needed five more minutes in his arms. That one last kiss was worth the potential consequences.’ I will miss not having to tell anyone why I was late because I am the Lieutenant and my Marines assume I’m doing something important and my boss is on the other side of base. I will miss waiting for lunch. Watching the clock from 10 on, trying to decide if I’m going to PT (physical training) or go to lunch with one of my pilot buddies at Eddie’s. I will miss being able to freely pace back and forth from office to office waiting for something to happen that would break the monotony of the day. I will miss anxiously waiting for my watch to beep at “1600” giving me permission to take off my cammies and slip into a pair of jeans, sexy button up shirt and high heals, walking gracefully into my Marines to say, “I’m out if you need anything else call my cell. Clean up and close up the shop.” They don’t need my permission to leave at the end of the day, but I vainly want them to notice that I am a woman above all else. I will miss the drive home and having to take the 163 to the 805 to avoid traffic on the 15. Cursing California the whole time and just wanting to go home to be back in the arms I left so abruptly that morning. I will miss not knowing what to have for dinner and the urge to walk down to the Ould Sod to have a pint – either alone or with some girlfriends. I will miss the comfort of knowing there will be someone I know there if none other then the owner or bartender working. I will miss Mick who works happy hour and always listens when I complain about my day, which I will soon remember and think “what was I complaining about?”

I will miss taking a nap after dinner and waking up to a kiss from the boy I love at 9 o’clock and begging him, “Just five minutes. Just give me five more minutes and I’ll wake up and we can go out.” I will miss waking up to him crawling into bed at 3 AM and asking, “has it been more then five minutes already?”

I will miss sex and love. Trying to sleep in ‘til noon on Saturday and secretly hoping Allen will wake up and want to go on some sort of adventure. I will miss leaving and going on an adventure by myself until he wakes up in the afternoon, to an empty bed, wondering where I am. I will miss chocolate and beer and Starbucks and hangovers and In-N-Out burgers. I will miss phone conversations to my older sister - early on Saturday morning while the rest of Southern California sleeps. I will miss the sinking, but comforting feeling in the pit of my stomach when I wake up knowing this is just another day, just like all the others.

I will miss it all, but I will know that I am fighting for those ordinary days. Fighting for the lifetime of ordinary days I have to come home to. I will take comfort in knowing nothing will change while I’m gone. The lady bug and California freeways will be here along with the sunshine, palm trees and surfer-boys. Allen will be here living the ordinary days he lived before he met me. Mick will be at the Ould Sod serving pints of Guinness to familiar faces. The happy hour regulars and late night bartenders might think of me from time to time, but their lives will go on just as they have so many days before I walked in and had that first drink. It will all be here when I return, but now I wonder - will those ordinary days ever be the same to me?

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