The drill captain is roaring.

         We’re standing in two feet of oozy mud that had not just ruined, but as totaled my brand new $750 boots. It’s snowing big, cold, white flakes that melt on contact instead of even attempting to stick and getting us out of this mess. I feel like I have spent the last week trying to pull a train engine up hill with ropes tied to my ankles. The drill captain is roaring at us like that time my manager at Burger King found me making out with my boyfriend in the pantry on company time. This isn’t cheerleading camp, its Hell!!