About 15 miles east of the Texas border, I became like a barn-sour horse running away with her jockey (poor Hubby who was trying to follow me in the car behind). Nothing was going to stand in the way of me and Texas. I was so close to being home that I figured the faster I got there, the quicker the "Texas-feeling" would set in. And it did. Our cars' license plates finally match the surrounding traffic, there are BBQ restaurants at the gas stations, and Pat Green and Tejano music on the radio. Ahh, Texas! But all of this has come at a cost...
After a week of solid hecticness, we are finally here in Corpus Christi, safe and sound. In a hotel...a La Quinta...because that's the only hotel that will take our precious baby dog. She's probably cleaner than a lot of children that get to stay at much nicer hotels. Hubby and I are being punished for choosing to have a dog instead of children right now. I turn bitter every time I have to stay in a hotel any less than 4 stars (which is still pushing it for me!).
It all started a week ago. My family was supposed to come to Pensacola for a visit. Even though it was the same week that we were scheduled to move, I insisted that it wouldn't be a big deal and to come on anyway. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been. BUT...my family's house was "burglarized" on Memorial Day weekend, so my dad and step-mom (the ring leaders of the trip) decided to stay back home to finish up with the police, insurance, security, etc. My younger brother (age 11) decided that he still wanted to come visit. So did my grandparents. All of this was fine, except that I became the ring leader of the trip instead of a spectator. I had a great time visiting with my family, even stayed with them at their condo on the beach. But Wednesday evening I went back home to start preparing for the move on Friday. (Note: One of my previous entries about PCSing suggested to not start preparations until a few days before a move so as to keep your house intact as long as possible. This is WRONG! Something will come up that will make you wish you gave yourself a few more days to finish everything.)
That same evening that I came home to start organizing and packing, I turned up with some sort of stomach virus that had me up all night. My grandparents were scheduled to leave that Thursday, but my brother had decided that he wanted to stay behind, play in Florida a little longer, and then drive to Texas with us, which we had agreed to the week before. Again, that would have been fine under normal circumstances. On Thursday, Hubby went to work, and I rendezvoused with my grandparents to pick up my brother. Instead of taking him to base like I promised, we had to go back home so I could sleep all day. Super fun for him. Then when Hubby got home from work, I was still feeling terrible and had a really high fever, so away to the ER we went. 4 hours, an IV, numerous blood tests, and no answers later, we got to go home. This was Thursday night, and none of the moving preparations had been done. No laundry, no packing, no nothing. I was drugged up and went to bed, while my sweet (and efficient!) husband was left to do all the dirty work. When I woke up on Friday, it was like Christmas morning! I rushed around examining the handiwork of my little elf. It was all perfect and ready for the movers!
The actual move was another super smooth one. The packers and movers came and went in 4 hours, our first day of driving to Houston wasn't very long and we got to see my family at the end of it, our second day of driving was only 3 hours, and we leased our base house first thing this morning!
I guess in the end, everything balances out!