*** Warning Warning This post briefly speaks of gaming... mostly it's off topic. Read at your own risk. You have been warned!!!*** I don't have a whole lot of choices in my current life style. To some of you this may seem a genuinely odd way to live your life. To my military spouse partners in crime, this is our normal. I try and not bemoan my lack of control. Really, I mean it. I have quietly found a place of deeply rooted acceptance that involves gallons of ice cream, chocolate, vats of wine and may include me being dragged kicking and screaming into this quasi reality.
Three letters have haunted my dreams. PCS! For those of you lucky enough to remain uninitiated, they mean Permanent Change of Station. In other words, you are moving.
I have, perhaps slowly, begun to get a wee tad better at change. Probably. Ok, Zeff says I still suck at it, but I think I have improved by leaps and bounds.
Here's the short of the process. The Navy says you are going to move. They then give you the tiniest list of possibilities which is sorta kin to a presidential election form. Bad, worse and OMFG! They give you several months to get used to the idea of your soon to be arrival in the seven rings of hell while they bury you in paperwork. You are then instructed to hurry up and wait.
After recovering from the carpel tunnel they've foisted upon you, you begin gathering your medical records, dental records, vision records, pet records, fill out your change of address form, turn off all your current utilities, set up new utilities... you know the usual. None of this was unexpected. It's part of moving. While it's full of unexpected delays, hours spent on hold listening to really bad elevator music and trying to figure what option will get you an English speaking human person, it's not horrible.
You clean out your closets, refrigerator, and give away a lot of things that seemed important at the time, but now are a burden and will only add to your weight total.
Yes, weight total. You are given an allotment of weight you are not to exceed. I spent hours wondering how much of my library of books, gaming paraphernalia and so forth was going to cost me in overage!
The movers arrive, you pack up and move on. In my case tearfully. I left behind good friends, awesome food and a level of comfort in a southern state I hadn't felt since leaving Texas. Bleh!
But enough whining.
Now, to add insult injury, you don't get to pick when you move. We happen to be afflicted with the awesomeness of our moves occurring in December.
I would like to state for the record before I move forward that I am still married to Zeff. This maybe because he is a saint. Or I am...ha ha ha...nah!
The top three stressors in a relationship maybe job changes, moving, and the holidays. I was handed a trifecta of joy wrapped in brown tape.
We arrived to snow in our new state. I kinda ignored the snow as I gawked at the Drive thru liquor stores on the side of the "emergency snow route" highway. Nothing says welcome home like drive thru alcohol?
For the first time in my life, I didn't have any say what so ever in my home. I mean zero. Zilch. Nada.
I was ASSIGNED my little slice of the good life by an officious clerk with the personality of malt o meal. I was told it was 4 bedrooms 2 bath. After receiving our keys we opened the door to 3 coffin like bedrooms and 2 bath like spaces. Don't look at me like that. I can't turn sideways in my own bathroom!
I valiantly shoved down my rising panic as Zeff pleadingly asked if I like our new home. There was no way my queen sized bedroom furniture was gonna fit in the teeny tiny "master like" bedroom. My sectional was never going to fit in the front door.
Most importantly, there was no room for 2 PCs, desks, our shelves upon shelves of DnD books, Dwarven Forge sets, mini's, dice, empty computer boxes for every game we have bought in the last decade or so, and the dog.
I resisted the urge to down a fifth of vodka and get a plane ticket to anywhere. I told him it was simply wonderful. I loved it. Hey, it wasn't a complete lie. The place has hardwood laminate "like" floors downstairs. It has a kitchen. I have a backyard and deck to shovel snow off of.
I am trying to ignore the hideous brown plastic molding crap attached to every base board, the paper thinness of the walls, that I have to be a contortionist to brush my teeth, and that my neighbor has a two year old who screams most nights.
It's marital bliss :D
Look, we survived moving at between Thanksgiving, our anniversary and Christmas. I have a roof over my head and my husband hasn't killed me. I think we are doing pretty swell.
I am including below a small gallery of photos of the new place from before the movers arrived. This is mainly for my girlfriends who have complained bitterly about my inability to get these photos posted so they could save me from my decorating phone calls, but enjoy it as you will.
, posted with
I am writing this post from my desk which is squeezed so closely to Zeff's I could use his monitor as mine. Our bed fits in the room by the barest of margins. They had to shove my couch through the back door. I wasn't over my weight allotment and only most of my furniture needed to be wood glued, nailed, screwed and held up with hardback books.
I am a survivor :D
Yes Zeff, I like our new home.
P.S. Just to prove I can handle all manner of change, I took the plunge and started playing World of Warcraft. I have lost my mind. If found, please return to sender.