Moving: commence.

Paul hires movers and rents a Penske truck, reserving both for Saturday, April 3rd. I have to pick up the truck by 8am and get home in time to meet the movers at 10am. This means no heavy lifting for me, which pleases me. Since April 3rd is also my brother’s Nascar debut, I’m a little bummed.

For Christmas, my brother’s girlfriend Shannon got him the opportunity to drive a stock car around at Fontana speedway. I have looked foward to seeing him do so for the last few months, and am sad that I won’t be there. Instead, I will be supervising the carrying of all my worldly possessions from my house to a moving truck. Then I will be attempting to sneak a nap before I have to drive down to Ontario (California, not Canada, thankfully) to pick up Paul at the airport. His flight comes in at 11pm. He wants to be on the road at 7am the following day, which means a loooong day of driving with not a whole lot of sleep.

I’m yawning just thinking about it.

Since we’re moving in just over a week, I rush home and pack up kitchen utensils like a mad woman. A week ago, I thought I was going to be miserable and lonely without Paul, and that our seperation could be long and agonizing. “I’ll visit you in a month,” he had promised. And now there’s no need. We’re moving already.

I just wish I knew for sure that I could stay with him once we do move.

I still don’t have an official transfer date, although it’s been rumored that I can go on the 12th of April. If this is the case, I can stay in Washington. If it’s not, I have to fly back to California to come back to work, and stay with my mom and sister temporarily.

I consider this as I sip a cranberry juice and vodka. I love my family, but moving in with them temporarily does not seem appealing. Once I’m out of the house, I see myself truly pining for Paul and normalcy. I do fine as long as I can come home to my kitties, relax on my own, and go to sleep in my own bed. Once I’m totally displaced, I see myself becoming grouchy and worn out.

It’s late and I should be in bed, although I haven’t been getting as much sleep lately as I am used to. When Paul’s home, I am usually in bed by ten at the latest, sleeping like a content little baby. Since he’s been gone, I’ve been up till after eleven, and it hasn’t really impaired my ability to wake up in the morning. Perhaps my brain is too full, or perhaps I haven’t adjusted to Daylight Savings yet. Last night I made myself go to bed by ten, only to find that waking up was a struggle for the first time.

Odd.

There’s a union rally starting at 7am in front of my office. I start at 8am, so I should really go and march and show my support. As long as I am in California, I am a CWA union member and proud of it. We have been working without a contract for almost two weeks because the greedy phone company wants to employ more (non-union) contractors and cut our pay. I do NOT support any of this nonsense. We took a strike vote last week, which came in at an overwhelming ‘yes’ to a strike. I am offended. A company that makes as much money as mine does ought to treat its workers right. And yet, the CEOs are greedy, and want more more MORE.

I have seen corporate greed. And it is truly sickening.

I cannot forget the last year and a half I’ve spent as a steward. I’ve learned a lot and I am a big supporter of my union, and of all unions. I feel that all workers should have a union for protection. And even though I am leaving soon, and even though there is a pending merger in the Northwest that will ultimately change who I am employed with, I still want to see my coworkers in California treated right.

Work is leaving California, there’s no doubt. Paul and I are getting out of state not just because I like living somewhere that has boats big enough to put cars on, but also to escape the threat of my work being moved out of state or even overseas and finding ourselves down to one income. We certainly can’t afford our cushy SoCal life should I find myself unemployed. Up north, we’ll be near enough big cities and diverse businesses that I might actually be able to find other means of earning a living if I need to.

I realize my head is spinning and that without noticing, I’ve stuffed nearly every loose item in my kitchen into a box. I’m making headway. By Sunday, I should be able to finish the box packing. Then on to bigger projects, like breaking down furniture and unhooking the tv. If I keep up at this pace, I’ll be done on time for sure.

I finish my drink and reload my tape gun.