And all of my Words with Friends games are about to be forfeited for lack of playing.
I am a poor excuse for an inter-amiga.
I blame my husband.
First he left for, like, ever.
Then he came home, but didn't go back to work. And so all I do is sleep in and go shopping and go out to eat and...
Well, I guess I can't really complain, now can I?
He'll go back to work sometime next week, and life would start getting back to normal.
Except that it wont.
Because, in news of the holy-cow-we're-moving-soon:
Holy cow! We're moving soon!
In 2 weeks we will have packers in the house boxing up all of our worldly goods; they will be hauling them off on April 6th. Which is really quite soon when I pause to think about it.
Next month at this time, I'll be curled up on the couch blogging on my laptop with its broken backspace key, from some house in California of which I know nothing.
Because we haven't found it yet.
Kind of a strange feeling.
But exciting, too!
Currently our plan is to have me and the kids fly to California, ship one vehicle, and Josh will drive the other.
Note to self: Buy plane tickets.
Another note to self: Distract movers while they carry the TV. Hope it breaks.
We're hoping to find a rental house close to Josh's school, and get settled in enough time to do a little traveling in California before his training starts.
Josh spent most of today on the phone, arranging for our utilities to be cancelled, trying to get a PO box for forwarding mail, reserving a room in the TLF (temporary lodging facility), making other miscellaneous move arrangements, and...
talking to my grandfather.
When Josh got off the phone he told me that he had just taken a ride on the crazy train.
(Don't worry about my grandpa getting hurt feelings; there's a better chance of me hitting the lotto jackpot than my grandparents figuring out the interworld. And I don't even play the lotto.)
My grandfather was in the Army Air Corps back in the day. He was at Pearl Harbor for awhile, and he apparently had come across a postcard that Josh had sent him from when he was in Hawaii while en route to a deployment.
About 3 years ago.
So he had to call to ask him some important questions about Hawaii.
Like, is the old dormitory still standing.
Very important questions.
And my husband loves me, because he endured the conversation for at least a half an hour.
He didn't even give me a guilt trip about it, which is good, because I had three little letters up my sleeve in case he even tried.
So now you have all my excuses for why I am a sorry excuse for a blogger.
Can we still be friends?