Just nine more up-at-4AMs for John to go to work and then he’s DONE. So here’s the thing: he has nearly two weeks worth of vacation time left, plus he has to work this coming weekend (swing shift, not counted in those 4AM get-ups) which means he’ll also have two days of comp time to add on to his vacation. After he works this weekend, he’s taking off two weeks in a row to spend at Harstine gettin’ stuff done that will use up all of his vacation and comp time. Then, one more week of work. THEN. He’s retired, baby.
Yes, I’m so excited for him—to be stress-free to finally have the TIME he needs to finish this house. (And also, well, to be free of the corporate insanity that is Boeing after 33 years).
I’m just bereft that I have to continue working at this hateful job of mine. Yeah…we’ll need the income for a while, but jeesh. This will be hard. I’m fighting a good amount of despair because I will be home alone a lot this summer, just going to work. At my godawful hateful job.
I just want to cry.
I chatted via Facebook with Nate very very briefly Saturday night and I learned that his leave after his current deployment ends in August (that I was soooo looking forward to) will be just ONE WEEK. And I know from previous experience that I’ll be lucky to see him for one day. His girlfriend won’t be able to get leave at the same time so I don’t get to meet her (yet).
To be honest? I feel cheated. In August it will have been two fucking years since I’ve seen him. I’m throwing major shade at the Navy. Think they’ll notice?
Yup, my mood sucks. It’s Monday. My birthday yesterday made me feel old. (And a little bitter because certain people forgot about it).
But hey! Here’s an updated picture (“pitcher” – via Chucklehead) of the Harstine pantry/kitchen, complete with the ol’ microwave and propane stove that John removed from the trailer:
I just want to be there. And not here.
