Here’s a little help for those of you first-time PCS-ers (and by a little help, I really mean that it’s NOT in your best interest to take me seriously.)
8 Things that Should Probably (not) be on Your PCS To-Do List:
1. Decide whether or not you’re going to bring your stuff.
I mean, I’ve always been told that happiness does not reside in possessions, so I’m SUPER-DUPER sure your new homeowners will love your vintage ventriloquist doll collection. And those rusty knives and sickles in your basement. Eww. Home, creepy home.
2. Avoid packing.
If you do decide to bring your happiness-sucking possessions with you, I’d suggest waiting until the moving truck shows before you do anything about it. Then call your neighbors over for a pitch-in (as in, they pitch in) and tell them you could reeaallly use their help loading the truck while you sit in the moving truck cabin with classic time-wasters such as watching Instagram make-up videos, cats singing Disney songs, or dementors sucking away pieces of your soul. Any of those would work.
3. Find an indulgence.
Stress hits everyone differently, you know? We all need a little pick-me-up from time to time (legal. LEGAL pick-me-ups.) Some find a clear head while hiking, others while exercising. For me, I’ve found true happiness in deep-fried funnel cakes. They just, like, speak to me. But whether its yoga or credit card debt or Dr. Pepper or the craps table, really invest in your super unhealthy indulgences. YOLO and all that really indistinguishable young adult talk.
4. Leave surprises for your next homeowners.
Broken pipes, flooded basements. Cracked foundations, rotting drywall, mice in your cabinets. Black widows in your wall, crawling all over you at night. I feel like this is the beginning of a hit country song. Move over, unnamed country stars. That’ll be me collecting the Grammy, blowing kisses to you.
5. Wait until you arrive before finding a place to live.
Where’s your adventurous spirit, mate? Stroll through the town, luggage in tow, politely hammering on your possibly new neighbors’ doors at 10:45 p.m. to see if you can couch-surf for the night. That’s how you’ll know if they’re there for you. Like State Farm. And your new parole officer.
6. Overindulge in new cultural forays.
Assume incorrectly that you know exactly how to blend in with the local culture. Grab your 5-gallon hat and spurs, grow out your handlebar mustache, and ask where the saloon is so you can get some Ramen. Bonus points if you ask where you can get one of them ther’ Sheriff badges.
7. Lie to your kids.
I wouldn’t really trust my kids to keep the “moving thing” under wraps. Before we knew it, everyone would know that we were moving: our landlord, our jail bonds guy. Better be safe: Just blindfold your kids on the way out of town and tell them there’s been a zombie apocalypse. You could even bite one of them for an extra dose of fear.
8. Change your mind.
Drop everything off of a bridge into a whirlpool and bum a ride to Chuck E Cheese. Who needs retirement anyway?
The bottom line: Do what you need to do to make this experience livable, so you can survive and thrive after your big move. In other words, don’t listen to a word I wrote. For a better way to prepare for your next big PCS, find actual and sober advice here.
