I almost cut my fingertip off last night. But don't worry. It's still there.

One moment I'm jazzed to make the jump out to the other coast.  The next minute I'm on the verge of tears because I don't know what I'm doing, we don't have a plan, and this lack-of-planning bit is making my OCD crawl onto the wall and vomit purple all over.  If you're an irrational militarily-attached chiquita, then you know what I'm talking about.  


But this weekend I was back on the boat to gettin' the heck outta here (with no looking back) after the temperature topped 105.  Umm, ya, squeeeze me...my name's not Beelzebub.  I don't live in the 9th circle of Hell.  I don't play the Devil Went Down To Georgia.  I don't go looking for souls to steal.  In fact, I'm one of those crazies that enjoys the rain.  Other people get Seasonal Depression.  I get off.


We're still in the early planning stages of this whole PCS thing, I say "thing" because I'm still learning.  But we still need to schedule packers, I need to get my shit off the floor (every since coming home from England, realize we're not staying here, my willpower to do laundry and put things away has reduced to "Doesn't give a shit."), and I need to make one last trip up to the Mommy McD household to take part in sprinkler running, fort making, and overall mayhem and foolishness with the offspring I call my "nephews."


Night at the Museum 2 didn't work last night, dammit.  Umm, Dear DVD, We didn't Netflix this because we wanted to deal with a scratched version.  I want to see my sequel.  Then text my sisters the funny quotes like we did with NATM 1.  Because we're awesome like that.  And you're totally jealous.  Okay, maybe not.  Thanks, the Ging.


But back to reality, we have a tentative route still, which is good, but our leaving date is TBD.  We don't know where we're living (and this SHOCKS people at work), but we'll find something.  We've stalked online and we know what we want.  It's just a case of You'll Know When You See It.  And I don't have any type of work lined up.  I mean, I want to enjoy my little vacation just a smidge.  Like maybe 3 weeks worth, because then I'll probably be so bored I'm willing to be a Walmart Greeter.  Please sense humor.  But at least that's 3 weeks of getting back into the running swing of things.  Hopefully.  Maybe.  We'll see.  Then maybe I'll blog about it.


For now it's 4 more days of work.  And I don't even count Wednesday, because I have 2 events to work so I'll be super busy.  Then Thursday and Friday I'm training my temp replacement until work rehires my position, so there I'll be super busy.  And we're supposed to do July Birthday celebrations (a la The Office - And yes, I'm on the Party Planning Committee), so that'll be a mini going-away shindig for me, which I think I'd rather just avoid overall.  I'm not a "Goodbye" person.  Just let me and my horse ride off into the distance while the credits roll.  Unless you're Mommy McD.  We don't do goodbyes.  We just do "Well, I'll see you in 8 months, maybe we'll plan a race to do, if not, McHusband is taking the kids and we're going off to play."


So pretty much, I'm ready for next week.  Bring on the long drives.  Bring on the Non-Stop 90's Rock on XM.  Bring on the Ging's take on road food (a cooler full of healthy snacks, like grapes, carrots, etc.).  Bring on just getting there.  I'm ready.  Just not my fingertip.