Day-Out-Night-Return Post: Tupperware

Hi, my name is The Doctrinatrix, and I have your Tupperware.

I know you think that it’s all safe in your cupboard, but those are actually replacements that you forgot you bought about three years ago. Since that time, your spouse probably deployed and came home. Your children have either been born or started school. You PCSed somewhere new. You had big life events that happened, and you totally forgot that you gave me some leftovers, or you brought something to my house and left it there, and I STILL HAVE YOUR TUPPERWARE. Friendship and time have made you forget. I have never forgotten because I have the proof of life in my pantry cupboards: the sandwich sized Tupperware that matches the set that you got for your wedding anniversary.

I know exactly who it all belongs to. I know this because I am evil. Evil… and hoarding other people’s Tupperware. AS HOSTAGES!

If you’re convinced that I have your deviled egg carrier, I do. If you’re missing a part of your Tupperware collection, but you think you might find it in the back of the fridge with something growing in it, you’re wrong. It’s not in your fridge. I have your Tupperware. If you think you might have possibly left Tupperware at my house at one point, you did. If you’re not sure that you have ever visited my house or know me personally, it doesn’t matter. I still have your Tupperware.

I have so much Tupperware from one friend's house that I am pretty sure she could buy her own über fancy couture wardrobe with the money she could save if she didn’t have to replace all the Tupperware I’ve filched. I have a Tupperware from another friend, brought to my house filled with her yummy beer cheese dip. I STILL HAVE IT (the Tupperware, not the dip)! I PCSed from Campbell to Rucker and smuggled away Tupperware bits. Kind friends brought me leftovers when I was flying a night mission a year ago. I still have their totally awesome Tupperware. I love it. I took it with me to Leavenworth. I will probably hoard it forever.

Told you. Pure evil.

I just want you to know that I will treasure your Tupperware always. I will love it. Honor it. I will promise to feed and walk it every day. I will be its best friend.

Until I leave it in the back of the fridge with leftovers and it starts growing something scary. Then it’s game on.

I’m glad we talked about this. It clears my conscience. Ahhhh.

Lots of love and hugs,

The Doctrinatrix

Day- Out- Night- Return Post: Army Moving Considerations

So the debate rages on between balancing sanity and potential for massive quantities of cash during a PCS move. Is it better to allow strangers to pack your belongings or do you think you can you really stave off the inevitable mental break down that comes with a DITY move? I find that this conundrum can be solved with asking yourself this question:

Am I okay with someone else finding my BOB** and wrapping it in packing material and putting it in a box labeled “kitchen items”?

If the answer is “yes,” go forth to the Transportation Office and ask for a standard PCS move.

If the answer is “no,” play a rousing game of Oregon Trail. 

In case you have never done a government move with government hired packers, rest assured that everything will be packed. Ev.er.y.thing! This is a blessing and a curse, people. Because while you really don’t have to lift a finger, things that you would normally throw away or not pack seem to end up wrapped in newsprint paper, stacked in a cardboard box, and then mislabeled on the inventory. Nalgene bottles (half full of water), trash cans (with trash still in them), coffee pot (with coffee and grinds)… when the transpo office informs you that the movers will pack everything, they mean it. And it all will be labeled with as Linens. Thus unpacking becomes a surprise every time!

For tonight’s example du jour: a friend's PCS discovery...

** BOB: battery operated buddy. Gentlemen, this is what your spouse invests in when you leave for Nosnatchistan Againistan.