Updated: I panicked. I wrote this a few days ago (February 28), and then took it down. It had too many details that could, in the very worst-case scenario, compromise my husband’s reassignment. I’ve relaxed a bit. Here’s the deal: we are relocating eventually. We don’t *know* (as in it’s not in writing and everything could change and there are secrets to keep) if it’s in one, two, or three months. If you know me, you know that I hate all this cagey-ness. A lot. And you know that I appreciate your discretion. 

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I’m so tired, I feel like I’m actually asleep.

I started writing this week, daily, for an organization I worked with back about a dozen or 17 years ago, depending on how you count. It’s challenging, relatively fast-paced, relevant to you, me, governments, corporations and society. And it’s fun. FUN.

I started this work on Monday (2/24), and Tuesday at 3 am I woke up to get ready for our 6:25 am flight to a very cold midwestern city so that we could look for a house to move into at some point in the next several months. I had this target date of April 1 a bit ago, because I like things to work out when I want them to work out, but that’s rarely how things work out.

Certain things, though, work out more often than I think.

We got to our hotel at about 11 am on Tuesday, and by 12:30, after some lunch, we were looking at houses with our realtor. We looked at, if memory serves, five houses. Then on Wednesday, I toured a public school. I fell in love. (Can you fall in love with a school?) I love the school the kids currently attend, I do. But this new school? I had goosebumps. After that, we looked at three houses, including one that my husband–my husband!–said was “perfect.” Because it was. To live in, certainly, but it’s also zoned for that public school.

On Thursday, we looked at no houses, but drove through some other areas to see if we thought there would be any other place we wanted to live. Today, we made an offer on the perfect house. Wrote it up at about 11am. Might have reached the sellers and their agent at noon (by email). At 1pm, our realtor called to say the offer had been accepted. Papers get signed tomorrow. Inspection on Sunday. We do not mess around.

So here we are. It’s Friday night at 8pm, and the kids are with my husband in the hotel pool, and I’m sitting here, in utter disbelief. I’m not sure this blog should be called “Diary of a Corporate Wife.” It’s more like a “Dream Log.”

None of this can really be happening. None of it.

You know how when bad things happen, you might ask yourself, “what did I do to deserve this?” And always, the answer is “Nothing. It’s just the way it is… It’s luck.”

Well, when good things happen, I ask myself “what did we do to deserve this?” And the answer remains the same.

It’s just the way it is. We’re lucky. Right now.

Don’t pinch me.