Phone calls and distance...

Oh, and driving! If I haven't mentioned it, or if John hasn't, I'm a terribly impatient driver. Terribly. Horribly. Awfully. I tend to get really wound up while driving and I've been known to yell and berate people at the top of my lungs if they do something I consider to be stupid or inconsiderate.

Granted, they may think they were perfectly justified in making that lane change, but they didn't check with me first, and do I have news for them! I mean, seriously. Why exactly didn't they read my mind and figure out that I wasn't in the mood to slow down for their silly butt? However, I do think it's dangerous, as well as stupid, for someone to move into a lane doing 10-15 mph slower than the other traffic in that lane and then...not get out of the freakin' lane! Hello?

Anyway, I got stuck in traffic this morning. Bad traffic and it caused me to miss my crazy-person appointment. I called to let them know that I'd be late, and she said that if I didn't make it in my 0915, to not bother. I looked at the speed of traffic, the next exit sign, and asked to reschedule the appointment. The ever-helpful Bernadette (I've dealt with her before) informed me that she'd let Dr. Wolf know, and danged near hung up in my ear. I managed to get her attention long enough to ask to reschedule the appointment, and she told me that Dr. Wolf would call me to reschedule. That worked so well last time, that it's been over 60 days since my last appointment. So...looks like I'll call back next week and get another appointment.

Foo.

I know that I had a point in here somewhere. I really really did. Somewhere. I'll find it shortly, I'm sure.

Then, I won't be on the computer, and I'll just forget it again.

I hate being blonde.

OH! Phone calls. I've gotten to talk to John three times in the past 12 hours and it's been wonderful. I'm actually feeling pretty upbeat and optimistic and the next six months aren't looking like the death sentence they were. Oh, it still sucks and it's still way longer than I want to spend away from my darling husband, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I'm relatively sure it's not a train. Relatively. Mostly.

So...one of the girls in my unit is trying to get me to go to OCS with her. Gah. How scary is that? Me, an occifer. John's all about it, but I would have to start running now. I need to anyway, but gah. Let me repeat. Gah.

The plan for the Iron Dress proceed apace and I think that I'm going to take apart another dress for the forepart. It's a maroon wool, and the cloth that I'm thinking of using would look great with a maroon wool forepart, or even a maroon wool bodice...Hmmm.

Great. Now I've got more ideas. Someone stop me. Please?