The Army has played games with me since I became associated with it through marriage. In my first year as an Army Wife, I moved three times. After that year, I settled into a more normal cycle of moves and I hit my stride as "Moving Goddess," which was quite an accomplishment given my history of disastrous moves. I've come a long way baby, or so I thought.
Just as I hit my stride, the Army plopped us into the Washington, DC area and decided to leave us there for an unheard of five+ years. Wicked sense of humor, those Army folks. Just when I know how to move efficiently, they decide to deprive me of putting my new skill to good use. We all know that if you don't use skills, over time they weaken, which has, unfortunately, occurred in my case.
I recently looked at the calendar and said, "holy cow, I'm moving in mere days and I've done nothing except purchase those ziploc bags that always come in so handy." Panic has overcome mojo, and that's not a good thing in this case.
I'm a list person, have a list for everything. It's highly annoying to some, but it's really the only way I can function. So, I reach for my move to-do list, knowing that it'll be okay once I have my hands on it. The problem? The list wasn't there. It hadn't even been created. Panic.
Oh no, what to do?
Why, search for a ready-made list, of course. I found one too. A good one. But there's even a problem with that. I'm at the three week mark (list #4 on the "smooth move checklist") and I now have to go back and make-up for lists 1-3. Panic. Panic.
To make this situation even more stressful, I'm going to be on vacation for 2/3 of the days leading up to my move, which leaves me even less time to do more. Panic. Panic. Panic.
I am highly disappointed in myself. I am no longer a Moving Goddess and I'm an embarrassment to the military spouse community. I have shamed us all, and for that, I sincerely apologize (she types with her head hung low).
I mentioned that the Army has a wicked sense of humor. So too does my husband. On Sunday we looked at the calendar to plan our vacation route.
I think we'll return on the __th, he says, and he's dead serious.
I raise my eyebrows. He still doesn't get it.
We cannot return on the __th, the packers will be here the next day.
Yeah, that gives us one day to get ready for the move. That's all we need.
That's not nearly enough time. I have to segregate things out, get things ready for our tenants, there are a million things to do (most of which should already have been done, but I don't admit that.)
Nah, we'll be fine, he says.
Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic.
It's going to be a very rough move.
Damn you, Army. Damn you. Letting me get complacent like this and stripping me of my Moving Goddess title.... I shall not forget this! I will have the last laugh one day. Just you wait...