Our household goods arrived yesterday, which sounds like it could be a good thing. It was getting tiresome, sitting on a mattress on the floor, to watch tv. And my washer and dryer are back, so laundry can happen in-house again, which (believe me) is exciting.
Of course now there are so many boxes, we can barely navigate our way through this house, which is feeling smaller by the second. I was getting sassier and sassier, as Justin kept reminding me, “you keep saying it’ll be fine; it’s only 11 months.”
And then, upon finding the 3rd broken item, I lost my cool. And had an epic blowup tantrum.
“YEAH! Join the army! We’ll take care of you. Give us 20 years and we’ll force you to move and break all your shit! You should be grateful that we’ve only broken half your shit! Maybe next time we can break more!!!!!!”
Justin calmly stood there and didn’t once tell me to calm down or stop swearing, which I appreciate. When I was finished freaking out, he said, “but nothing in the kitchen was broken, right??”
I guess some packing person needs a gold star for successfully packing plates without breaking any. Heck, they stole (or lost) most of our silverware during the last move, so Justin didn’t even trust them with our spoons this time. He was taking no chances.
Honestly, every move we trust them with less and less…which is kind of how we ended up in the “too much stuff and not enough uhaul” situation.
When I told him he needs to find the brackets for the kids’ shelves, so I can bolt them to the walls, he whispered, “but you didn’t fill out the paperwork to drill holes in the walls yet.” We’re paying ____ a month for a shoebox! I don’t give a shit about their stupid paperwork! “Actually Sammi, it’s [more].”
You aren’t helping!!!!!!
Justin also informed me that there is a spouse briefing at the exact same time as the open house for the middle school, which seems like terrible planning on this stupid, stupid school’s part (it might not be stupid. I might just be feeling angsty still). So guess who won’t be going to the spouse brief. This is how I get a reputation for being “standoffish.” I guess today won’t be the day I learn how to properly curtsy to officer wives, or pour tea and serve crumpets. Or whatever they expect me to do. Guess what—I’m not in the army, ya bunch of crusty butts.
:::Deep breath:::
So, this morning I am quietly sitting in my “living room” that barely fits my couch, drinking my coffee and listening to the traffic noises from the highway outside our “house.” I’m once again trying to channel Bob Marley, convincing myself that “every little thing, is gonna be alright.” And maybe we’re done finding broken items. And maybe all we have to do at this point is figure out how to get everything to fit.
