I pretty much hate everything right now.
Let me premise this rant by saying that many of you know I’m a mom and I obviously don’t hate my kid, but he is on vacation 3,000 miles away visiting grandparents and I’m not able to kiss and snuggle him every night – soTHAT I do hate.
And many of you know that I’m a wife and obviously I don’t hate my husband either. Maybe scorn at times. Or perhaps disdain once in a while. Frustration definitely. But not hate.
Let me also say that I don’t have a serious disease, nor am I homeless (yet), I have steady work, food in the fridge, clothes in the closet (or the dryer…ugh…laundry…HATE), free cable television (minus the NFL Network = HATE), a couple bottles of crisp, white wine (LOVE), and my hair is finally growing out of that awful haircut I got in March.
But our relocation to the East Coast hasn’t been free and easy. Absolutely not free. And far from easy. I just wish we would have had more time to think strategically about what it takes to attempt a cross-country move. We should have planned better. We should have researched more. We should have examined and explored and studied.
There goes my left brain again.
That’s not to say I think we made a bad decision. This was absolutely the right decision, just done in the wrong way. Too fast and not enough reflection.
I feel like we left Washington state so quickly, we didn’t really get the time to appreciate it. I mean, I’d only lived there for ten effing years – you’d think I would have taken one stupid picture of Mount Rainier. But no. And I kick myself.
If I had known I wouldn’t eat sushi for six months after moving to Maryland, I would have ordered Trapper’s Sushi every night for a month before we moved. Trump roll, princess cut please. And if you don’t know what Trapper’s Sushi is, Google it. Then find a way to get to Tacoma/Puyallup/Sumner to eat some.
The Seattle Seahawks won the Super Bowl. One month after we left. One stinking month. That welcome home parade for the Seahawks after the Super Bowl that went through downtown Seattle? The one that drew 700,000 people? Went right past my husband’s old office. An office with a window. A window that looked right down on the street. A street on the parade route. You get me? I would have had a warm, comfortable seat to witness history. HATE.
Rockville, Md., the city where my husband works, and Bethesda, Md., the city where I work, were just named by The Washington Post as two of the 10 snobbiest small cities in America. I can vouch. HATE.
Our upstairs neighbors have a son who sometimes acts like a kangaroo on steroids. HATE.
Humidity. Enough said.
Washington, D.C. traffic. Even worse.
When I was little, my mom used to send me to visit my grandparents in Missouri for the summer. I remember calling her crying because I was afraid she wouldn't want me back. She assured me I would be coming home soon and told me I was just homesick. Some things never change.
Brutal honesty? This post is really about how I’m homesick. I miss my friends. You know who you are.
I miss hugs and coffee and giggles. I miss Taco Bus dates and wearing bows and trivia night. I miss pizza and watching trashy tv. I miss smiles. I miss familiarity. I miss people who’ve got my back.
My friends. LOVE.
Let me premise this rant by saying that many of you know I’m a mom and I obviously don’t hate my kid, but he is on vacation 3,000 miles away visiting grandparents and I’m not able to kiss and snuggle him every night – soTHAT I do hate.
And many of you know that I’m a wife and obviously I don’t hate my husband either. Maybe scorn at times. Or perhaps disdain once in a while. Frustration definitely. But not hate.
Let me also say that I don’t have a serious disease, nor am I homeless (yet), I have steady work, food in the fridge, clothes in the closet (or the dryer…ugh…laundry…HATE), free cable television (minus the NFL Network = HATE), a couple bottles of crisp, white wine (LOVE), and my hair is finally growing out of that awful haircut I got in March.
But our relocation to the East Coast hasn’t been free and easy. Absolutely not free. And far from easy. I just wish we would have had more time to think strategically about what it takes to attempt a cross-country move. We should have planned better. We should have researched more. We should have examined and explored and studied.
There goes my left brain again.
That’s not to say I think we made a bad decision. This was absolutely the right decision, just done in the wrong way. Too fast and not enough reflection.
I feel like we left Washington state so quickly, we didn’t really get the time to appreciate it. I mean, I’d only lived there for ten effing years – you’d think I would have taken one stupid picture of Mount Rainier. But no. And I kick myself.
If I had known I wouldn’t eat sushi for six months after moving to Maryland, I would have ordered Trapper’s Sushi every night for a month before we moved. Trump roll, princess cut please. And if you don’t know what Trapper’s Sushi is, Google it. Then find a way to get to Tacoma/Puyallup/Sumner to eat some.
The Seattle Seahawks won the Super Bowl. One month after we left. One stinking month. That welcome home parade for the Seahawks after the Super Bowl that went through downtown Seattle? The one that drew 700,000 people? Went right past my husband’s old office. An office with a window. A window that looked right down on the street. A street on the parade route. You get me? I would have had a warm, comfortable seat to witness history. HATE.
Rockville, Md., the city where my husband works, and Bethesda, Md., the city where I work, were just named by The Washington Post as two of the 10 snobbiest small cities in America. I can vouch. HATE.
Our upstairs neighbors have a son who sometimes acts like a kangaroo on steroids. HATE.
Humidity. Enough said.
Washington, D.C. traffic. Even worse.
When I was little, my mom used to send me to visit my grandparents in Missouri for the summer. I remember calling her crying because I was afraid she wouldn't want me back. She assured me I would be coming home soon and told me I was just homesick. Some things never change.
Brutal honesty? This post is really about how I’m homesick. I miss my friends. You know who you are.
I miss hugs and coffee and giggles. I miss Taco Bus dates and wearing bows and trivia night. I miss pizza and watching trashy tv. I miss smiles. I miss familiarity. I miss people who’ve got my back.
My friends. LOVE.