My apartment office requires 60 days' written notice before you move out -- even if your lease is up. My lease ends at the end of June. With a giant question mark STILL looming over my entire summer, I was getting a little anxious. Sure, I'd have the whole military orders clause on my side if I needed it, but I didn't want to have to deal with it.
The Army had kept us waiting on the details of the impending move for months and months and months, and for some reason, yesterday I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I don't think a couple months' notice of the concrete details of how drastically my life is about to change is too much to ask. I talked to K about it and begged him to stay on the people in whatever office it is that could tell us his next career move.
This morning, when I called K as I left for work, he told me he finally had information about our next assignment. Good thing: I had my vacating notice in hand and was about to deliver it to the leasing office.
When I handed it over to one of the ladies there, she asked, "Do you have a forwarding address yet?"
I thought to myself, Woman, I didn't even know where I was going until this morning!
But I smiled and shrugged.
"Virginia."
