What it's like to stay behind.

It was a difficult day when he dropped me off at the airport for my journey back to California while he began the long journey to our (again) new zip code. We spent a week gallivanting around California as a mini-vacation between stations since this state is absolutely amazing (ocean, mountains, trees, lakes, and more). I bravely walked into the counter to get my ticket and make my way like a Baton Death March to the United gate XX at Reno International Airport and Tire Care.

I broke down once the doors were closed to the airport and I tried to shuffle to the security area.

I don't do well when it's my decision to leave. It's something I can't explain. When Mr. Wookie took the bus down to San Diego to ship out on the USS 'Bout Time, it was a sad morning...but nothing too overwhelming. I knew this was just the band-aid rip for the year and he would be home before I knew it. But when our lives are upended for my career, I feel more - I feel more pain, I feel more guilt.

So it's no surprise when my "mopey-ness" was at it's peak last week. I didn't see it when I was in it, but my boss saw it a million miles away. I was called into her office. I sat down. We agreed. I need to finish my preparation in California and schedule my shift to Virginia. So that ticket is purchased and my extraction date is set. I'm ready but damn, I don't want to go. This place is magical.

Why are my lips blue? I don't know. But there has been one benefit to staying behind and being mopey - there's been some super shopping to help perk me up. I've picked up super long sweater tanks, new summer dresses, linen pants, JCrew shorts, and a cute pair of anchor boxers for my gorilla. Now how am I going to get all this to my new home?? Maybe I should have thought about that before the debit card was raped.