What have you been up to?

Alas, the Tax Man story is going to have to wait another day.

As of late, I've felt like a rotten friend. I've neglected good friends, right and left, in a quasi-attempt to save my own sanity. It didn't help that in Sunday School with my parents on Sunday we talked about being more giving of our time and talents. Then I just felt even more rotten.

An old friend asked today, "what have you been up to lately?" My answer was, "Oh, you know, more of the same..." it's fundamentally true, the fact that my "more of the same" is not everyone else's version of "more of the same" cannot be helped.

Himself travels to Expensive Beach Community this week to make a final decision on his promotion/transfer offer, at which point we will know if we will be:

1. Definitely moving (98% probability)
2. Moving in May (75% probability)
3. Moving in June (25% probability)

While there, he will also be investigating housing options. This has consumed us for the last several weeks - looking at listings, making our list of "musts" (washer/dryer hook-up, storage space, good neighborhood) "nice-to-haves" (good kitchen, back yard, under 30-minute commute) and "totally unnecessary" (that list is shockingly sparse!).

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (er '70s Palace), I have been cleaning, sorting, organizing and buying Rubbermaid containers at an alarming pace in anticipation of our third move in 2 years. This, of course, is with a wonderful "helper" always in tow, who finds piles and open containers abhorant and must find reasons to scatter their contents over two levels and 5-7 rooms as quickly as possible. Always with a gorgeous smile and delightful chatter so as to forget the truly exhausting work of following behind her.

Add to that a rather complicated, potentially serious tax issue that took me several weeks to figure out, document and file; general job insanity for both Himself and I; major financial setbacks in the land of Sara's medical bills - those of the thousands of dollars variety; and, of course, the still-continuing morning sickness and chronic cramping and fatique in the land of pregnancy (Second trimester, what? Oh yeah, I'm one of those people for which the second trimester means absolutely nothing).

Woodstock and I fled The Frontier this weekend in complete defiance of adult responsibility in order to do absolutely nothing at The Parentals. It was lovely. However, it served to make me feel like an even worse friend/neighbor/church member. I often wonder if truly charitable people just forgo their own constant balancing act, let things crash down and have enough faith they'll be taken care of if they focus on others. It flies in the face of my pratical nature, but maybe it would absolve me of some of the guilt.

Really though? I just want to know if we're moving and when. This weekly holding pattern is going to drive me (and everyone around me) insane.

And that, my friends, is what I've been up to - see? Same old, same old.