Sergeant's Log

EVERYONE IS CRAZY.

Someone out there has to be lonely enough to come home with me before this shit is over, because damn.

Damn.

need drink.

Don't really feel like being in public anymore.

Made an ass out of myself.

Shouldn't have ever tracked her down.

Why do all my attempts to help end like this?

Maybe I should just give up already and snort dust with Mozz.

Fuck, my balls still hurt.

I stole a baby.

Wasn't a very good plan in the end.

Wonder if Sihu will still want to travel with me after all this?







[ Added later: ]

HE HIT ME IN THE BALLS. IN THE BALLS. WITH HIS HOOF.

Mozz is really down.

Definitely looking for that lil shu'halo tonight, she's always fun to talk to.

Marking off the dead on the roster - removing the MIA. Realized we had something like fifteen soldiers that haven't been heard from in a month or longer.

Probably rotting.

Arakov is hungry. Gonna go.

Two new soldiers. Seem pretty good.

Mozz is depressed again. Got a package in the mail, he's been reading through it. Don't know what it is but it's making him snort like a fucking pig.

Guy is gonna die like that someday.

One of my soldiers died. Jove. Another one. Wasn't under my watch so I can't feel too bad, but still. Feel like it'd be wrong for a leader to not get that pang in his chest when one of his men dies. or women, I guess - men in the generic sense.

Trying to get back to normal. Difficult. Visited the guns today. Didn't touch them, I won't touch them, no, not with a ten foot pole, but I can look.

Can smell something, at least.

Wonder where Sihu is.

Back to work again.

Haha.

Woah boy.

Things to do.

Feeling a little bit lost but I need to get back to work; strategies, strategies, strategies, endless - we need more plans for the field. Lucrothe wants to attack more often.

Haven't drank with him in months, should.

Women?

Not going there.

Paperwork - politics - maps - when do I get to play?

Times like these make a guy feel real subtroll.

Annoyed. Arakov is here for me. Mozz doesn't want to talk. Don't know why - mad at me, I think.

Still can't smell.

Found Wyeth's letter this morning and it hurt. I remember it. I didn't tell anyone how I felt when I heard she was dead. Don't think I will.

Sihu deserves to see it. It's one of the last things she wrote I think.

Will visit her when I can.

It's hard to recognize people by their face instead of their scent. I hope my nose gets better.

New recruits, blah blah, paperwork.

I told her everything.

Something is wrong with Talash.

Don't want to talk to her, but as her commander, I should.

I can already feel the anger.

Endless waves of politics, decisions that need to be made based not upon whether or not they're right, but rather upon who will react to them and how; delicate issues, things I've never been very good at. That's what my life is about these days.

I think I am going to get fantastically drunk after the meeting tonight.