Six Years

I moved to South Provo for my few remaining months in Utah before they ship me off to basic. I like it. In fact, I like it better than I thought that I would. Now that I'm in an area and ward with a lot of other "midsingles," I get to meet a lot of new people. Prior to this little move I decided that I wasn't going to tell these people I had enlisted.

That plan very quickly backfired. I have discovered that most people feel comfortable asking some very pointed questions about my employment situation, and I was left with the option of either saying that:
a. I was working at the sticker factory, and then coming off looking like I see nothing wrong with being a college graduate who has resigned themselves to that sort of labor, or

b. admitting to having a bigger goal. I don't have so much pride that I won't work those kinds of jobs, but I do have too much to let people think that's all I ever intend to do with my life. When I admit to the bigger goal they want to know what kind of work I'm looking for, or what else it is I've got going on, and I eventually always break down and admit to having enlisted.

Once the cat is out of the bag two things inevitably happen, the person kind of shuts down and I can see that they no longer have interest in getting to know me personally. I believe this to be true in all instances, and particularly true, or perhaps just more obvious, when the other person is a man. However, the person also inevitably feels a need to ask a series of questions about my impending military service. Most of the questions are pretty easy to answer, the "when are you leaving, where are you going, how long is basic, what is your job going to be in the military?" I'm fine with those, but the question that I truly, truly hate is when they ask me what made me decide to enlist. I feel like I've yet to produce an answer that is satisfactory, and I probably feel that way because the next questions tends to be something like, "well is it something that you've just always wanted to do?" They look all shot down and confused when I tell them that it isn't. I'm beyond the point where I care what they think about me for doing this. Generally speaking, people aren't very good about hiding their judgment on the matter, be it good or bad (and don't get me wrong, sometimes it really is good), and it's written all over their faces the minute I tell them. My favorite part is when they're done talking to me and they finish things off with "well, good luck with that," said in a sort of doubtful tone.

I have yet to figure out a way to navigate this topic of conversation effectively. I hope I learn, or it could be a really long six years.