I tried to find the guesthouse on McGuire AFB, to no avail. I called the Doughboy Inn on Dix -- no rooms. I get a voice mail from work; one of the guys needs to log onto a computer he isn't yet mapped to; can I come bail them out? (I called back; someone else had hooked them up.)
Going up to Trenton to get Wolfie was uneventful, and dinner was tasty. Then we came back to Wrightstown. It started raining in Bordentown, and our stuff was in the bed of the truck. We gotto the Days inn; they'd just sold their last room.
Then comes the capper: We go back to my barracks, and as we're walking toward it, I put my hand in my pocket and realize, to my horror, that the item I'd thought was my key was in fact a pack of gum (the key fob is almost he same size and shape). The guy with the master key wasn't in. I called him. Called him three times. None of the NCOs that were supposed to help me, helped. Wolfie finally carded the door. Took a lot of effort, though, which is, in a weird way, comforting.
It's late. I wanted to be in bed hours ago. At least my hair is clean now -- it was so greasy that the water practically beaded up and rolled off. I hate putting product in my hair. It makes my scalp break out. I need to remember that the next time I get the urge to slick down my flyaways. :-)
To bed. The dawn will come too early.