Dharma and the no-good, terrible, very bad day

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS NOTHING BUT VENTING, RANTING AND IS INFLUENCED BY ALCOHOL.  TAKE WITH APPROPRIATE GRAIN OF SALT.

I had a shitty ass day today. 

I found out that we don't get to go to England like we've been thinking that we would for over a year now. 

I had to call my elderly (in her 70's) mother and break her the news that she wouldn't get to meet her grandchildren this year after all.  I got to listen to her try to disguise the tears in her voice as she told me not to worry, p'raps next year we'd get to be together again.  I got to hear my even-more-elderly father do the same thing.  If you've never experienced having to tell you parents something like that, take it from one who knows....avoid that situation at all costs.  It's not nice.

You know, my husband and I have always been pretty content on our own.  We're survivors, he and I, we don't like to ask anyone for help unless we absolutley have to.  We've never been the kind of people who have been afraid to move away and strike out on our own....but when he got orders to Greenland for a year and we found out where out follow-on would be, well, we were pretty ecstatic.  Being away from family for so long (9 years people, 9 fucking years) had made us appreciate the luxury of being able to live close to them again.  We were all full of plans to go there and immerse our children in British and European culture..I mean, we had it in writing from the AF, in black and white that we were going there.

Yeah, right.  The AF, in it's infinite wisdom, has decided that this is not to be.  I called the UK this week to try and persuade whoever made the decisions to please let us go there.  "We can't.  It would be too personal" was the response.  I wanted to scream "Yeah well this IS personal!!!" at her, but I kept my cool and said jack shit instead.  I wish I had spoken up now. 

So, we're not going to England.  We don't know where we're going.  I have 10 weeks before my husband is supposed to come home, and I don't know where we're going after that.  I don't know where my kids will be attending school this fall. I don't know.  I don't fucking know.  I want to know.  I want to know NOW.  I want someone to take this seriously.  I want someone to understand the relative urgency here, that time is running out, that I have shit to get taken care of, that I NEED TO KNOW.  NOW.  TODAY.  Not 2 weeks from now, not this time mext month.  NOW.  THIS WEEK, PLEASE. 

Dave says I should be patient.  I say fuck that.  I've been fucking patient, and look where it got me.  I've been polite, and I've shut the fuck up and colored like the good lil' AF wife....but I'm done with that. I never got anywhere with that in the past.  They didn't make me Key Spouse because I was good at shutting the fuck up.  They made me KS because I got shit done, and because I wasn't afraid to raise the BS flag whenever I saw unfairness and inequality.  I spoke to Generals the same way I spoke to Airmen, and I got people what they needed, when they needed it.  I made a fucking difference, I didn't just sit around and whine about shit. I DID something. (Take note, all you lamers - you know who you are)

So, I'm not going to England.  I'm not sure where I'm going.  I don't really fucking care WHERE we go, I'd just like to know.  I mean, it is OUR LIFE we're talking about.  I don't think it's too much to ask that we know, do you?

So, add to all of the above a tornado that caused us to all have to take cover in a windowless bathroom this afternoon, and you have some idea of the kind of shitty-ass day I've had.

Ok, I'm done ranting.  Take not notice of the disclaimer, I've only had a beer and a half.  Just enough to remove the filter from my mouth and let what I REALLY feel come spilling out, but not enough to make me melodramatic - yet.

Blog on, people...blog the fuck on.