when the Ginger turns green.

Some days I just wish that life were normal. That we both worked traditional 9 to 5's, suits, business cards, garage door openers, and travel mugs of coffee. But we don't. Well...in fact of those listed things, we do. But they don't apply to us individually. He wears a flight suit, I have business cards, I have the sole garage door opener, and he collects our mega stash of coffee mugs in his car because odd hours force you to become the bitch of caffeine. And caffeine in this house is coffee.

Nope. He's been working not traditional hours, as "bouncing" (FCLP's) have returned - he's been on watch, he's been briefing, he's been (accidentally) sleeping in on a Thursday so he missed PT. I can say he's been working so much that I've been making dinner for the whole week.

I know, right??

Has Hell froze over? What gives? Is the Chancellor appointing him to a new title?

Nope. There hasn't been room for Mr. Wookie to get off work, come home, decompress, cook, and enjoy dinner. So I've stepped up to handle the cooking responsibility while he's been nice enough to do the dishes (usually it's the other way around). But then there are the days where he doesn't have time to do the dishes...so they just get neglected. And obviously I don't want to do them because once they back up that much...no one wants to do them, so then we either rock/paper/scissors for them or buckle down and both do them.

Yes, some consider this squalor. Yes, I don't care. Yes, I deem living life and enjoying a Saturday of warm weather more important than the mess on the kitchen counters.

And for the record, the rest of the kitchen surface is clean. I just like to 'assembly line' the dirty shit in order to have light at the end of the tunnel.


So today was one of those days. One of those days where I'm bitter towards the Navy. Deep in my schedule is this thing called deployment. But before that happens, there's work-ups. And slated very soon is a half-Command detachment on to the boat where Mr. Wookie will be constructing the 'ready room.'

[source]

This is a traditional ready room on an aircraft carrier and at the squadron. Uncomfortable chairs. Black coffee. Stark walls. Well....stark decoration until you're told to build everything needed for the boat this weekend. Because the load-on happens sooner rather than later.


Guess you can tell I'm a little bitter in that I get to be the one who does the dishes since Mr. Wookie has to spend his weekend at Home Depot, Lowe's and inside the garage building the varying parts to the ready room. Mr. Wookie knows my angst isn't directed at him - but the task. Because nothing makes for an awesome weekend like learning that Friday you're going to be Bob Villa for the next 48 hours.

For anyone who's appreciated emailing home during deployment, you can thank the Mr. Wookie-types in the world. Because that's exactly what he's building here. Oh, and let's not discredit the Home Depot lady who couldn't read the bar code so she rung up a $30 piece of pine for $4.01. Not. gonna. say. anything.

And since it's been awhile since this bitch has seen the blogosphere, here's some love.