So I complained and complained because we were having a hard time getting a report date set in stone. I finally got to a point where I needed to vent to some wonderful ladies, and VOILA! A solution presented its beautiful head.
Panic #1 - conquered. Now, on to Panic #2. You see, this whole PCS process isn't just a "hurry up and wait" for one thing. No, it's hurry up and wait, to hurry up and wait, to ... Well, you get the idea.
Oh yeah. Panic #2 was finding a home. I have no problem moving around. My dad worked for the railroad and we moved around when I was a kid. I enjoy the adventure, seeing new places, and experiencing all that life has to offer. I do, however, prefer to feel confident that I'll have a roof over my head when I arrive at my destination. Really, I don't think that's TOO much to ask. I'll add this, for you more seasoned military wives - if it were only DH and me, I wouldn't be so stressed about it. I'd find an apartment that was decent and survive for a couple of years.
Adding a couple of kids to the equation sure complicates things.
With kids, you have to consider the safety of the area. REALLY consider it. One of the rentals we looked at had 12 sexual predators in a half mile radius. Uh, don't think so. Another element is school. How is the school rated? What's the student:teacher ratio? Blah, blah, blah... As with many areas, the schools in the area we're moving are very hit or miss. A couple of miles makes a HUGE difference.
With almost all my requisites met, hubby and I found a home or two that were promising. They were soon swept away by other hopeful renters that were, likely, close enough to actually visit the property and supply a deposit and whatnot. Then, we found it. The home that we didn't want to get too attached to, but checked EVERY day to make sure it was still listed. It was, for us, the Holy Grail of this PCS.
We sent the application, sent the application fee, had a friend do a drive-by of the area and confirm that it looked as good as the pics online. We had our dog approved, because pets were "Negotiable". Then, nothing. For days. The realtor, by the way, had assured me I'd hear the next day. Panic set in.
Oh, man. We didn't get it. Da@#it! We didn't get it! I knew our credit wasn't good enough! We had great references! What's the problem? Geez, I mean, we can have the rent directly sent to them - it's foolproof! Ugh! We're never going to find a place. I'm going to be stuck in a hotel room with 2 kids and a dog searching for somewhere to live and my husband is going to be **wherever it is he's going to be, doing whatever it is that they do when they aren't around**. She SAID she'd call back. Babe, did you leave a message? Oh, me, too.
Somewhere inside me, I found the more aggressive, more demanding self. I somehow left a message stating that if I hadn't heard from her by 5:00 on Friday, I was going to have to look into one of the other properties that we'd seen online. It would be a shame, because this particular home was the one we really wanted, but I have a deadline looming and have to find a home for my family.
I also sent an e-mail. Just in case. You never know in this day and age. Somehow we don't check the mail for a week, but check our e-mail hourly.
Guess what? She called. :) We got it. Tomorrow I'll be sending a cashier's check and reviewing the lease. Keep your fingers crossed that we don't hit a speed bump somewhere between here and there.
As always, I'll keep you posted. Oh, and the new source of panic? When are the packers coming and will we get out of here on schedule? The saga continues...