PCS #1: Got married on Saturday. Left for our international honeymoon on Sunday. Arrived back from honeymoon late Friday night. Slept for four hours and woke up early Saturday morning to load our U-Haul with hand-me-down furniture and boxed wedding gifts. Hit the road. Had to stop because I thought my car was about to roll off the trailer. Hit the road again. U-Haul and trailer got stuck in a gas station for a while because we don't know how to drive a trailer attached to a truck. Drove and drove and drove. Signed the lease on our apartment. Moved everything--including a thousand pound (maybe I exaggerate) sleeper sofa--into our third story apartment by ourselves Learned what TMO was. Angry that we did (what we found out was) a DITY move when we didn't have to.
PCS #2: Took advantage of TMO this time. Movers showed up to the door of our teeny apartment: one tiny guy channelling B-Rad from Malibu's Most Wanted ("traffic, traffic, looking for my chapstick"), one giant guy. Both wearing do-rags. Hubby and I played UNO.
PCS #3: Three months later. Our first anniversary. Family visited the days leading up to our move. Little Brother (12) stayed with Hubby and me to drive with us. Got really sick the day before our move. Spent the evening in the hospital hooked to an IV and having tests run (still a mystery). Hubby stayed up all night while I was sick in bed and entertained Little Brother, did the laundry, packed, bought me Gatorade, and prepared our house for the move. Movers packed and loaded the next day.
PCS #4: No funny stories to share. I guess that is a good thing. Well, the packers came on Friday and left us living in a sea of boxes all weekend. We lived on the water. Humidity+cardboard=stinky.
PCS #5: Hubby had to be gone the morning the packers came. I was left by myself to supervise. I caught one of the packers playing with a sheriff's badge and toy revolver (from a costume party). Awkward. Heard the packer in the kitchen break some glass, heard him mutter a profanity under his breath, then heard him proceed to pack the broken glass. Took four days to drive to our new duty station. 33 weeks pregnant. With one dog who gets carsick and one dog who wouldn't sleep (even on the maximum dose of tranquilizers).
PCS #6: I'll get back to you soon.