You've been warned.  That's probably all this post is going to be... bitching.  You don't have to read it, and you certainly don't have to comment.  In fact, if you have an opinion that differs from mine, please don't express it here.  Talk to me about it on a day when I don't feel like crying every 15 minutes.  Talk to me about it on a day when I don't hate Guam.  That day might come in a month when I'm finally off this rock, but I'm sure it will come.  I'm sure, one day (maybe when I'm mired in the snow in Connecticut) I will look back and miss Guam.  Today is not that day.

This move has been crazy.  It's no one's fault and I have no one to blame, except maybe Big Navy (like, the government, not the base) for using our command as guinea pigs.  It's one thing after another, and I'm so sick of it.  I'm also sick of the feeling that I shouldn't have a negative opinion about it.  Sorry, I've got one.  I won't go into specifics in such a public way, but if I don't get this out somewhere, I'm going to explode.  Just writing this vague little paragraph makes me feel better.  I no longer feel the need to throw all three of my telephones into Sumay Bay.

It's the little things that get me here.  For instance, I get so angry just about every single time I step foot into the commissary.  It's always something.  What isn't fair is that if I consistently had problems at a grocery store in the States, I would just NOT go to that grocery store.  Well, here I don't have a choice.  The thing that gets me most often is the stupid self-check out machines.  Why don't they ever work properly?  I've used self-check out machines in probably 15 grocery stores and Wal Marts all over the country, and never had a problem before.  UGH.  Today my bitch is seemingly incompetent employees.  Now what happened doesn't even seem relevant.  So I'm not going to write about it.. Again, my vague paragraph has made me feel better.

Lastly, I'm annoyed at myself because I can't get past this weight plateau.  I get to a certain number, and I only go up from there.  I've gotten to this number 3 times now in the past 2 months, and it seems like once I hit it I can't go further.  I eat less, exercise more, and nothing.  Maybe it's a mental thing?  I don't know.. I find myself getting discouraged when I haven't lost anything the next day.  I've also noticed that I am a defiant eater.  "Oh.  I didn't lose anything yesterday and I did so well.. So today I'm going to eat what I want, since it obviously doesn't make a difference."  That's probably something I need to work through.. I should also probably not weigh myself every single day.  That might help.. Blah.  I don't know.  I don't want to get obsessive, but I see it coming.

Ok, just so this won't be a huge bitch fest with nothing positive.. Jason will home again soon and I am so very excited to see him.  We only have a few weeks total left of under water time before Jason will be on dry land with  me for the next 4ish years.  I am so ready to wake up next to him every morning and go to sleep beside him every night.  I'm ready to find a church, and get into a family routine instead of a single mom routine.  I can't wait to really get started on our life as a family!

Alright.. bitch over.  Now I can finish my day with a big weight lifted off my shoulders.  Sometimes you just have to get it out, you know?