Crazy Changes

This morning was supposed to be fairly relaxed. We’d decided that we would sleep in, have B go to his meeting and then run our only two errands in the afternoon. Then we’d pack for Switzerland, have dinner with a friend, and escape the chaos until next week. Someone, somewhere is cackling mercilessly at my naivete. After we lazed in bed until the last possible moment, I was taking a decadently long shower when B stuck his head into the room. He told me that the guy doing our pre-move walk through would be there in 15 minutes. I sort of gasped but wasn’t too worried, until our buzzer rang. B threw clothes into the bathroom and I hurriedly dressed while he let the guy into our house. And that’s where it all changed.

Remember yesterday’s schedule? It looked something like this:

17-20 Feb: Vacation

21-22 Feb: Prep everything for move

23 Feb: Moving Day one

24 Feb: Moving Day two

27 Feb: Final out

28 Feb: B and Loki fly to Turkey

2 March: Kendra flies to Turkey

It was rushed, but it was a relaxed rush. We had plenty of days to figure out shipping the car, clearing with housing and the landlady, and all those fun things. Not so much anymore. The new schedule, after some haggling to keep from having to cancel our vacation for the movers is:

17-20 Feb: Vacation

21 Feb: Moving Day

23 Feb: Military reclaims loaned appliances

24 Feb: Ship car, vet appointment, and clear housing

27 Feb: B takes test, clears base, go to Frankfurt via shuttle

28 Feb: Fly to new home

I mean, it’s not a huge change. But we’ve lost several free days to organize the house. We’ll do some this afternoon and some Monday night once we’re home. And the rest? Well, they’ll just have to pack up our chaos. Their own damn fault for changing everything on us anyway.

Anyway, I have a lot that I should be doing. And another blog to update in order to have a touch more down time.

~The Countess~


About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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