5.30am; wake up.
6.35am; leave house and drive down to Newcastle (God bless the new Expressway!).
7.35am; arrive at recruiting.
Fill in forms, pee in cups, speak to the nurse and psychologist and finally be told by a defence force member to come back in six months and talk about reserves (again, just to test out if the force is really for me) and to join a team sport.
Problem with that is I don't like football, or cricket or netball. The three games that are available in my town. Joining a volunteer organisation like SES or the fire fighters would be great however they are more of a commitment than just something to do to get into a job. It isn't fair on anyone if I only dedicate myself for six months to a year to these things. I would need to be 100% behind them and want to continue on even if I did go into the army.
So apart from being told to cool off, I was also informed I was pregnant... which is impossible. A false positive which meant I had to pee into a cup yet again and wait for a new test. If that one had been positive I would then have believed in God (it has been seven months since I had sex and several menstrual cycles) the only explanation would be I was carrying the next Jesus Christ.
Not going anywhere in the near future and (secretly) I am happy with that. But I'm not going to give up, I have twelve months, who knows what will happen.