The movers came and picked up our stuff and we realized we still had too much shit. We ended up leaving some things at my father-in-laws to be shipped out later. We slept maybe 5 hours in 3 days. We were cranky and tired.
I had a little breakdown checking in for our flight in the airport. It was 4 a.m. I had not slept in over 30 hours. The agents were being incredibly rude, our tickets didn't actually print from the kiosk, the hubby had to do extra shit because of his gun, it was a hot mess. When I had to return to the counter for the third time I ended up sitting on the bench and crying. Seriously. It wasn't loud sobbing just quiet tears that I needed to release. I was too tired and upset to be embarrassed.
Then things got worse...
When we arrived to California all my carefully laid plans fell apart. The awesome place to stay was revoked. I'm tempted to talk shit about my cousin and what was said and how I can't believe family treated me so horribly but that should suffice.
I blame myself. I should have known not to depend on my family (except immediate). I learned that a long time ago and it was a severe lesson to learn again.
We stayed in a hotel for 3 weeks. My unemployment was stalled. My husband's transfer was lagging. Yes, EVERYTHING was going wrong. We stayed positive and prayed up. It was hard.
The good news is we got a place to stay. It is better than our place in DC.
My unemployment came through. His transfer came through.
Now we can start living.
Now I need to find a job.