3 AM Is When People Think Best

I mean, it really has to be. The house is at its quietest, and you're utterly worn out from a horrific day. Well, maybe not you, but me.

I never did get my paycheck, which means we cannot pay rent. This also means that the uber-bitch landlord will not give our $1500 deposit back.

Does it matter? No.

Why? Because we won't be here in four weeks. Instead of moving to Washington in 2 months, it is now 3 1/2 weeks. Seventeen days. We have to leave in seventeen days so that we can get across the country so that Venti can start his new job on the 26th.

He finally got the all-clear from the company tonight. We needed the good news, and it came just when we needed it the most. However, I am completely overwhelmed. As I sat listening to Venti call everyone he knows, and then email everyone he knows, and then check his email some more - I obviously had alot of time to think. (First of all - how about talking to me first? Not to dilute his absolute bliss about getting hired - just, well - I'm making a life altering change, too - ya know?)

There's so much to do, and what did I do other than panic? I wrote a list of rooms, and what to take with us - and what to put in storage to have shipped later. I thought alot about the upcoming guilt-fest my family is going to dump on me. I don't need that right now, but I sure would love their support...and not that riddled-with-sarcasm support shit, either.

Anyway, Venti called about 5 or 6, maybe more, people. I tried to get through to my mom, but only got her answering machine and she didn't call back. I didn't have anyone else to call. Ugh.

Grande Decaf is extremely excited and is planning on not going to school tomorrow so that he can stay home and help pack and throw things away. Seventeen days. Good lord. In the short space of 3 hours my home suddenly became knee-deep in cardboard boxes. We currently live about 3 blocks from an enormous outlet mall. Finding boxes are of no concern.

Venti is going to give his resignation letter tomorrow. I wish I could be there to see how they react. I bet it will be priceless, and I bet they'll counter-offer. He'd never take it, but it would be a boost to his ego. Priceless.

I'm wrong - people, well - me, don't think best at 3am, as this scattered entry tells. I'm all over the place with my thoughts tonight.

So - let me tell a stupid story about the bitch at Borders last week so that I can get my mind off of how much shit I have to do.

I needed a couple of books to get me through Venti being 3,000 miles away for several days, and so he took me to Borders. I wanted to read the novel version of Practical Magic (which, of course, was that Sandra Bullock movie.) I walked up to the computer and searched, and they didn't have it. Some goth chick was nearby at the counter and I asked her if she had any thoughts on books similar to that which might interest me. At the time I was holding a totally trashy romance novel looking thing in my hand. She looked me up and down and said "That's not really my genre."

Not really my genre. Really? Yeah, I suppose thinking isn't either. Christ. Don't judge me just because I don't have purple streaks in my hair. (Yet. The box of dye is still sitting on the dresser - just haven't gotten around to doing it yet.) I don't read fucking romance novels. I wanted something interesting, something other-worldly - and I wanted some goddamned help since she "worked" at the store - and I do use that term loosely. I ended up finding a couple of books on my own that were about alternate planes of existence, and fucking forgive me - but they were wound up in romance, too. It's not my fault. The Borders here doesn't carry many, if any, books on witchcraft. Did I see Christian Romance Novels, though? YOU betcha!!!

Give me a fucking break.

Here is one instance where I cannot wait to get to Seattle. The book thing - it's different there.

Anyway, back to my current plight. (I feel as though I can vent better about it now.)

So...12 hours ago life was shit, everything was up in the air, and I was crying. 5 hours ago I found out that yes, indeed, we are going to Seattle, and alot sooner than we thought. ALOT sooner. We'll be stopping in Montana so that we can visit Venti's mom for 2 days. His gay brother will be there. The last time I saw him he was really mean to me, and so I'm not really looking forward to seeing him again. It will be the first time that either of them will have met Short Decaf, though. After our stay in Montana, we will form a caravan with Venti's mom and brother, and drive to Washington.

So. Our first stop is St. Louis. We'll be leaving on a Saturday morning from Leesburg, Virginia. Google says that this is a 15-hour drive, but of course you have to leave time for stopping to eat and gas-up. Let's call it an 18-hour driving day. I really wish Venti wouldn't want to get that far that fast, but he says he wants to get across the Mississippi River so that we're no longer in "the East" as quickly as possible. Yes. He hates it here that much.

And I'm terrified. My panic doctor told me to not cross the bridge until I come to it when it comes to my utter fear of having a terrible panic attack while driving across the country. Well, yo doc! Bridge coming up!!! So, I have to call him, and also go see my family doctor to see what I can do to prepare for this. I will not be ruining a cross-country trip because of my panic attacks. And the funny thing is - it's not even the panic attacks that are the most terrifying thing.

I'm really scared about moving back to the west coast again. It's true that I'll have more family there than I do here, and that I'll see them all the time - but it's not MY family - as fucked up as they are. I don't know why this scares me.

Is it possible that I'm feeling traumatized? Too much going on? Overload? God - do you think nervous breakdowns are real? I wonder. I'd hate to have one.

My best never-met-in-real-life friend IMd me his phone number, but my son logged me out so that he could talk to his girl friends about moving. He is the only one who has cared enough to offer support, although I put out the distress flares yesterday. No familial response. And I'm scared to leave here WHY???

Ugh. I'm just so conflicted.

And....moving on. Gas prices here are $3.08. Of course, our car can take nothing other than Ultra Supreme Unleaded so we always pay the highest prices. Now - we ARE getting $3k for moving expenses from the company, and thank God for that, but damn...gas is really going to fuck with our quality of trippage. Speaking of our car - it's at the VW dealer getting the seat fixed. We also need two new tires before we leave. Damn. Just thought of that. Fortunately, we got one of those thing-a-ma-bobs that convert a car's lighter into an electrical outlet - so we can at least keep all three kids occupied with movies via laptop for the entire trip. We'll only have to watch Shrek 12 times the first day. Niiiice.

Well, I should really think about my brother's bait shop website. Or should I go to sleep? (meaning - lay there and stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.) Decisions...decisions...decisions...

So many to make in the next seventeen days.

PS: Thank you X for your # - although I lost it - it means the world that you sent it.