Tuesday, August 19
Monday, August 18
I hope she doesn't hate this place too much. Yes, it rains...but there are squirrels to chase, birds to eat, and an outdoor turtle pond to Meerkat from the corner while the strange reptilian children swim about for food. And let's not forget the plan for 2014: my (puppy) ovaries are bursting.
Friday, August 15
Of course, I complain that "I have to go to work." It makes me feel like I still matter to the work force. Though sometimes I forget what it's like to be an applicable member of my office. I come in 3 hours ahead of California and have no contact with coworkers until 11am EST. Then it's full-force busy as I make things happen remotely to my customers, vendors, and team. And the worst part: 4pm EST is my I.WANT.TO.STAB.SOMEONE. time frame because everyone is back from lunch in California and they need everything done before I'm gone for the day. It's like a sample sale at Kleinfeld's. Watch out.
But who am I to complain? I have the incredibly lucky position to be able to work from home, in my pajamas, with my customers and contacts, while earning $__,000/year + commission. My 'complaints' are no different than anyone working in a conventional office. I just happen to get the perk of lunchtime laundry, meal planning, crockpot prep for dinner, and nahnahnahnah nahnahnahnah
Thursdays are turning into my favorite for multiple reasons though.
a.) IT'S ALMOST THE END OF THE WORK WEEK. I love weekends just like the next working gal.
b.) There's an amazing, West Coast-born yoga instructor who kicks.ass.and.takes.names.
c.) I get excited for DATE NIGHT in the 757. There are sooo many great eateries in our
So here's to showering every couple days and the debate to purchase more pajamas. Life is rough.
Monday, August 11
It was a mopey day when Mittens, aka "Little Girl," was forced into the cage and onto a roadtrip of many hours to the Great State of Oregon. In our decision to live bi-coastally until Wookie & Co. Remote Office was up and running, and knowing we didn't have an 'end date,' we knew I couldn't keep her in California when I was couch-hopping like a homeless person; and Mr. Wookie couldn't make the drive/pit-stops for skiing with her in tow. It wasn't fair to shove her into a hotel room for 12 hours while he was skiing with friends. So Baby Sister was a SAINT and offered foster love for this furbaby. Who knows? Maybe this would spur her to want her own furbaby to love?
Poor thing. She's been a little 'what the f**k?' in terms of her location. She's sniffed out every nook and cranny of her new-to-her-but-temporary digs. She's been on plenty of cartrips between other houses for when Baby Sister needed to be away (Middle Sister + Husband watched a few times, and my parents watched a bit too). And while there's only been a few Skype sessions with both of them (Baby Sister and cat), we're FINALLY nearing the end of her displacement!
In a few short weeks, Norfolk will welcome the resident feline into the Wookie & Co. house. This future 'big sister' will have a solid 6 months (at least) before introducing the next four-legged furchild into the house, so she's gotta figure out her beans before learning where the high perchs are so she can stalk the flatulating new member from afar.
Thursday, August 7
Tuesday, August 5
It's been like that for most of this move-in process. He conquered the major projects like fresh white paint on the doors, frames, baseboards, and ever other surface that was covered in "almond" like it was 1988. He set up each of the rooms with solid faux-mosexual effort. And stocked the wine bar for my arrival and I love him for that. I showed up to a damn-near perfect house. And I started to feel guilty that I just skimmed through this move. I sat my ass in California for a happy 6 weeks while he tortured through a full unpack. So naturally I had to make up projects that NEEDED TO GET DONE. We need to paint the walls, we need a new rug in the guest room, we need to freshen up the paint on ______, we need to rearrange those pictures (these requests really drive him nuts).
But finally those projects are coming to a close and I can focus back on work. Because working from home is very difficult. I have to wake up and walk 20 feet to work. My commute is torturous. There may be flight boots in my path.
Monday, August 4
So things have been interesting in my change back to the 757.
I've wanted to stall this move as long as I could. I didn't want to leave the life I built. I didn't want to leave the amazing friendships that developed over the years and distances of Uncle Sam's work-up, delayed deployment, work-ups again, and then (finally) deployment. I fought hard for the "Wives Group" to accept most girlfriends (there was one who faked a pregnancy for attention...so I kicked her to the curb). I fought hard for the timeline on my career. And I fought hard to go to Target for just sunscreen so my Ginger skin didn't fry like a pork rind in the South.
But now I'm here. In Virginia. And it feels like California never happened. Like it was all a dream.
Tuesday, April 22
Friday, April 18
She explained things were changing in the next week. I watched and listened, my heart still pumping beyond necessary speed in my body. My coworkers jaws dropped. My life plan for the last four months was team fodder. They asked questions, and I answered with complete honesty.
My boss's eyes quivered when she looked at me. I told her, "Stop it! It's not like I'm dying." But then I realized...it is like I'm dying. I'm the life of my team - I'm the energy, I'm the entertainment. Monday morning after I leave will be a somber event commemorated with an empty desk and quiet coffee pot chatter. No one will be there to joke about how I don't take customer calls until after a cup of "anti-bitch juice." And the YouTube videos of playful Bulldog puppies won't draw the shrill of excitement as my puppy ovaries are prepared for 2014.
Instead I'll be working the other coast's hours and barely overlapping with my old crew. It's going to be different and I don't know if I'm truly ready. Maybe Bailey's in my coffee will help. Yes, that should do it.
Thursday, April 17
Wednesday, April 16
Sunday, April 13
...stays as a lifelong lesson as you teach Mama Ging how to work the Texas Tea penny slots. Although this time I didn't donate my typical $50-100 to the Great City of Vegas. Instead we spent it on something more awesome and had a VERY jealous Mr. Wookie.
But let me enjoy this real bed for a moment. Damn, it's comfortable.