I suppose one decision is better than living life with a giant question mark above your head. And even though it's only been ten days since we announced M#8, it seems like it has taken 50 years just to get here. Truthfully, I think I have been in denial. This is all just a bad dream. If I don't think about it, it will just go away. If I cover my eyes, it's not really standing right in front of me. But unfortunately, this is not a situation in which I can bury my head in the sand and pretend there's nothing going on.
The reality is, once Jason gets orders, we will have about one month to move.
That's it.
In my mind, that meant four weeks to a.) decide if I'll stay or go, b.) pack, c.) inform work if I decide to leave, d.) find a place to live if I decide to stay (that's available like now), and e.) actually move. All the while Jason would still be in recruiting school and possibly preparing for his own move. Heavy. With a capital H. And that's exactly why my mind was spinning. Either decision seemed so final. Either decision seemed so sucky. Thankfully, my mom offered us a middle ground. One that still has an opened ended outcome, but offers us a reprieve from the immediateterror stress I think Jason and I are both feeling.
Let's move now.
Let's find a place that would be affordable even if Jason moved to Small Town, America and only received $1,000 a month for housing allowance (which would be used to pay my rent here--he'll have an additional stipend from the military to help cover a room-for-rent or studio apartment for him). Let's try to make it work so that in case we are rainbows-and-four-leaf-clovers-shooting-out-of-our-arses lucky enough that he gets stationed locally, it would work for the long term as well. If he leaves, we'll have X amount of months to test the situation. If suddenly I hate my job, or if our marriage starts having problems, or if the miles apart just become unbearable, once our lease is up I can pack up and move. If things are going fine, I can stay and once his duty is up, he can move back (y'know, if the military gifts us with California orders again).
So that's where we're at now. The house hunt has officially begun.
The reality is, once Jason gets orders, we will have about one month to move.
That's it.
In my mind, that meant four weeks to a.) decide if I'll stay or go, b.) pack, c.) inform work if I decide to leave, d.) find a place to live if I decide to stay (that's available like now), and e.) actually move. All the while Jason would still be in recruiting school and possibly preparing for his own move. Heavy. With a capital H. And that's exactly why my mind was spinning. Either decision seemed so final. Either decision seemed so sucky. Thankfully, my mom offered us a middle ground. One that still has an opened ended outcome, but offers us a reprieve from the immediate
Let's move now.
Let's find a place that would be affordable even if Jason moved to Small Town, America and only received $1,000 a month for housing allowance (which would be used to pay my rent here--he'll have an additional stipend from the military to help cover a room-for-rent or studio apartment for him). Let's try to make it work so that in case we are rainbows-and-four-leaf-clovers-shooting-out-of-our-arses lucky enough that he gets stationed locally, it would work for the long term as well. If he leaves, we'll have X amount of months to test the situation. If suddenly I hate my job, or if our marriage starts having problems, or if the miles apart just become unbearable, once our lease is up I can pack up and move. If things are going fine, I can stay and once his duty is up, he can move back (y'know, if the military gifts us with California orders again).
So that's where we're at now. The house hunt has officially begun.
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