Gaw. How many new normals does a girl have to have in a year? Srsly. So I am now back in the land of beer and cheese, home in Wisconsin. I'm still living out of a suitcase. My Mac has a new, decidedly more surly attitude (aka: it won't start). And I am living with my parents. Yep. Almost 31 and living with my parents. Thank Maude it is only for 2 months. But hey, Fletcher was super geeked to see me when I walked in the door.
I'm still trying to readjust to this new routine. The one that doesn't involve Swiss anymore (a fact that majorly sucks and I still haven't gotten over yet). The one where I don't have personal space anymore. The one where I have to bring clothes into the bathroom when showering because I can't walk around the house nekkid anymore. The one where, even though it is home, I'm still a visitor. And I still get scolded by my mom. The one where I don't have a job or specific tasks to do every day other than hit up the gym (Couch to 5K here I come!). The one where I sort of, kind of, a little bit feel like I'm adrift in a great big blue sea of nothing... in an inner tube.
But it has its perks too, this new, new normal. There are people here. People that live in the house I live in and talk to me. Way less solitary. There are people that cook for me. No more cereal or toast for dinner! There are things to do. My ever industrious mom constantly comes up with things to do, places to see, people to meet. Its good. I'm waiting for Swiss to get where he's going so that we too can get on with our new, new normal routine. The standard phone call times, the e-mails, the web-cams.
Mostly, I'm waiting for things to hurry up and get done so that it can be just after Christmas and get on my way down to our new home at Fort X. To start up our new, new, new normal. Because, apparently, for us MilSpouses one or two new normals just ain't enough.