Procrastinating With No Time Left

So, tomorrow I head to Georgia. I've installed a dishwasher, kitchen sink, and a few other things, and I still have a lot of packing and cleaning to do. So naturally, here I am. The good news is that I should have ten days to come back and finish in a few weeks.

What does this have to do with The Great Outdoors? Nothing and everything. My lawnmower is sitting in the garage covered in leaves. The bagger works wonders for leaf pickup and until yesterday I had a decent fire going. I have 600 lbs of dirt sitting in the driveway waiting for me to fill some holes my dog dug. The dog is spending his last unrestricted day and doesn't know that soon he will be confined to a house and either a fenced in yard or a tie out. My guns are about to be locked in the safe with the exception of the two I'll be taking with me initially. My tools will be locked in the garage until I come back in the coming weeks. With great (read: curious) neighbors I'm not worried about the house being unoccupied for a few weeks. Counting my projected "house hunting" time I have at most thirteen more days in Louisiana until retirement, not counting coming back out a few times a year to check on the house and catch up with my friends out here.

Redneck? How's this? I live in a rathole trailer park in Georgia for the next few years, unless I can find a rathole trailer on a piece of land. I pay my mortgage and hopefully find a renter for the house. In ten or so years I move back, find a decent job, and put my $2k+ a month military retirement into the house. Convert to a 15 year mortgage somewhere along the way and double up on payments as the opportunity presents itself. Take two or three years and put $50k or so into remodeling.

In fifteen years, with the house paid off, sink tens of thousands into the shop I want. At least 30x40 feet, insulated, maybe even cooled (not much need for heat down here), and with an automotive lift for a 40-something year old man who will be broken down after twenty years of military service. Buy tools I don't have--table saw, drill press, etc--and be able to do everything from woodwork to light machining.

I'm thinking optimistically. In ten years I might be a statistic and remembered only on a list of casualties. I might find myself completely unable to pay rent and a mortgage and have to sell the house, or I might even keep up my recent trend of not giving a shit and just stop paying (it won't happen, but I'm aware of the possibility). Hell, the house could sit for a couple of years and get destroyed by a hurricane, tornado, fire, or other disaster. I'd still pay it off with the insurance money and have an empty slab sitting on the lot until I retire.

On a different note, I hit up my school's JROTC supply room yesterday one last time. The Colonel told me to take whatever I needed, so I have yet another new pair of boots; four new uniforms; and a set of ACUs, boots, and other stuff for a buddy of mine. I stopped by the VFW last night, planning to have a beer or two and get back to work on the house. As luck would have it, all the regulars there bought me a drink and I stayed for a couple of hours, consuming far too much beer yet again. The regular bartender is a pretty 26-year-old girl that doesn't live too far from me. She's never hidden the fact that she has something for me, but I never tried to move on her since I knew this day was coming. Hell, she seemed excited that I plan to move back in ten years, so maybe I'll how things are then. Right now it's beside the point. She fell off a stool at her house on Christmas and busted her face up bad. Her mom is covering for her at the VFW and told me she has to have plates put in her cheek and eye socket. I put a twenty into a jar for her medical costs (if I still had that windfall of money I might have put $100) and gave her mom the generous tip I usually give. Why not? If I drink three or four beers and only pay for one, I'm still going to tip for all the beers.

Okay, time to hit up the daughter's school and the parish library to pay whatever fines I owe. Then time to get back, load and prep the truck for the drive (freshly greased, and with a thermostat and radiator hoses), and try to work up the motivation to do some more packing. Maybe I'll open the French doors in the bedroom, drive the truck around, and listen to some Jason Ellis in a few hours. Maybe even reignite the fire one last time so I can continue to burn old documents that I cleared out of my desk over the past three years. I probably had a few hundred SSNs and other personal information. Unlike most half-ass POS Recruiters, I respect the privacy of those I once processed for the Army.

Damn, I just remembered too, I'll be zeroing an M4 soon, for the first time in almost seven years. My last weapon was zeroed perfectly and I spent four years merely confirming the zero without making any adjustments. Oh, and I guess there may even be a chance I'll have an effeminate :sycld: Soldier or two!