As I was driving through our neighborhood today, I saw a moving truck parked along the curb. Usually I don't think twice about them, but today was different. Today, I felt the itch. And at almost two years in Texas, it's right on schedule.
I think it's from growing up as a military brat (I've literally spent 30 years around the Army in one way or another) and moving so often. The longest I've lived anywhere was five years and that was when I went to college. Even now, five years seems like an eternity. When I graduated and got accepted into the intern program I packed up and moved to Baltimore.
Let's see...one year in Baltimore, two months at Fort Meade, three-four months in DC, one year in Heidelberg, two years in Bavaria, one year for Nate's training and now two years in Texas. Yep, it's time to move.
And the thing is, I'm not unhappy here. I love Texas, we have great friends, my family is nearby -- I really don't have any complaints. The urge to move is just so ingrained in me that I can't turn the switch off. What are we going to do when it's time to retire and put down roots? I can only hope that by then I'll be ready to settle down...though somehow I doubt it.
I love being able to pick up and move every few years. It's a new adventure and an opportunity to meet new people and try new things. When we were overseas, we traveled once a month (a perk I could never afford here in the states - seriously, airfare to get over the ocean is obscene). I wish I knew what our options were going to be when it's time to move. Then I could analyze all of them endlessly (only to end up somewhere unexpected, ha).
Maybe I should go get E's passport in the meantime. Maybe that will help minimize the itch. Or it'll make it much worse. Hard to say.
Am I the only one like this? Say it ain't so.