Blues

Husband-dear and I thought we had it made. Our first vacation together that would last longer than a long weekend, did not involve a bike race, without children and endless lists of family obligations was finally going to become a reality. It was still a trip to Holland, and not a week-long sojourn to, say the Bahamas or Aruba, but it was better than nothing. We had some family obligations planned, but lots of us-time too. It was going to be fantastic. I was even looking forward to the ten hour flight with just the two of us.

But then the air force happened. And I don't like them at all right now. And even though I generally like them a lot (you know, all in the spirit of the hand that feeds you and gives you opportunities, and pays for your health care), I have to say that lately there have been some issues in our relationship.

For one thing, the insane bureaucracy and minutely detailed rules. Why is it so hard to get a name change to happen in Deers? And why, oh why does -everyone- have to stop their cars when retreat is played at 5pm? And what is up with the reflective belt rule that entails people not receiving their food in the chow hall unless they're wearing one? And who honestly cares about the color of your socks?

Then of course there is the whole "we'll move you around when we want to, and we're going to find the most destitute places in the world just for you." I dream of living near a city someday, but unless I'm willing to battle the insane DC traffic, that is just not an option. And right now, I'm more likely to end up in the dustbowl of Oklahoma or the colder-than-heck mountains of Utah. It makes Georgia seem positively wonderful, doesn't it?

But you know, I can live with all that. I can, and I have. Part of all these issues fuel this blog, so I'm not complaining. But what kills me, what really really gets me right now is the air force's ability to mess up our vacation together. You know, they can mess up my name, make everyone wear bright yellow belts, and make me get out of my car at retreat if they want to, and I won't care. But. Don't. Touch. Our. Vacation. Yet they did. Because as of right now, it seems that husband-dear will not be going with me.

We got an inkling of this possibility last week, and have been holding out for news for seven entire days now. And as of this morning, there is no change. Sure, there is still tomorrow morning which might bring different news, but I'm not holding my breath. Because all I really want to do is stomp my foot and pout that "it's not fair!". Because it's not. Sure, the kids are excited dad will be home, and I'm sure the dogs will love it too, but we will still not have ever had a vacation together. With just the two of us. And since husband-dear's ticket was the lovely non-refundable cheap kind, we probably won't anytime soon either. It's not fair. I'm just saying.

So should you feel the need to to accelerate your life, be army strong, or rise above all, by all means go for it. Just please make sure you know what you're signing up for.