I've been off work for just over two weeks and am starting back tomorrow, at least with the blogging and blog management part. I need to come up with something to write ... and believe me, I have a load of things to say ... but I can't come up with the words to say them.
I'm writing here tonight to try to unclog the pipes. Call it "blogging drain-o."
In no particular order. And warning: this is going to sound like a lot of complaining ... I've determined that I'm OK with that.
-- I decided to switch Huck to formula. Everyone seems happier, overall. Including me. Let's ignore the crying child whose current crying is making me look like a liar.
-- I fell in love with a house, went and saw it, fell even more in love, was basically ready to sign a lease without Luke and ... the owner (a Sgt. Maj.) gave it to a couple who will "for sure" be here two years. I don't understand how that's possible. Nothing is "for sure" in the Army -- and when he asked me how long we'd be here I said "I think at least two years but nothing is ever sure in the Army." ... he should KNOW that. And if someone else said they will "for sure" be here for two years, they are lying. Because nothing is sure in the Army. NOTHING.
-- I am so tired of moving. I just want to live somewhere, in one house, for more than a year. The longest I've lived anywhere since college (that ended in 2004, in case you are wondering) is about 17 months.
-- I miss Luke. My missing-moments come in fives. Five days after he leaves is always really hard ... and when that heavy, aching weight of missing hits me again after being pushed under the rug successfully for awhile, I take a peek at the calendar and, sure enough, it's another five-date. Tomorrow, for example, is five weeks. And the missing feels like a huge backpack that I'm hauling around with me. I feel like I can't breathe.
-- To help me ignore the missing-weight I've been unbelievably productive the past two days. I'm just straight-up bored (the reason I'm going back to work early instead of waiting until next Wednesday). For example yesterday I: took Dave to speech therapy, wrote Luke, finally conquered my closet/drawers, sorted and organized all of my seasonal clothes, swapped out Dave's seasonal clothes, and dealt with this giant box of dishes we've been hauling around packed since Fort Lewis. ... and today? I hit four stores looking for Luke's foot powder, ran errands at the PX, grocery shopped, dealt with the world's most obnoxious plumber, shined my copper pots, dusted, vacuumed, cleaned my bedroom and bathroom, did four loads of laundry, folded all of it (a true miracle -- I hate folding laundry), did a little work, gave Dave a bath, packed a box for Luke, sanitized baby bottles, and other stuff I can't remember. I'm tired now.
-- And now an open letter to that plumber. Dear plumber: two days ago you called and asked if you could come fix the leak under our sink. I said that you could come any time before 4:30 p.m., after which time we would not be here. At 4:26 you called to check my address. I did not answer. When I got home I found a note on my door saying that you were sorry you missed us. Are you a moron? I said I wouldn't be home after 4:30. I meant it. And then there was today. Ah, today -- the day on which you called me at 7:04 a.m., woke me up, woke up my 3-year-old and sealed my distaste for you. You wanted to know if we'd be home around noon. I said we'd be out until about 12:30 p.m. at least. And so at 12:20 when you called wondering if we were home I was not particularly kind in how I informed you that, no, we were out - JUST LIKE I SAID WE WOULD BE. If I knew how to complain about you to your boss, I would ... but sadly I think you are your own boss. Please never come here again. Sincerely, me.
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