Good morning, friends. It’s Thursday, it’s sunny, I’m still here, etc.
I had a good talk with my mother last night. She didn’t go to the art festival last weekend, as her little dog is dying and she couldn’t leave him. Sadly, I probably won’t get down there before he passes. She really hopes I can be there for St. Patrick’s day dinner.
We talked about my departure plans. We know a route, but not a date. According to Mom, all anyone talks about in Florida is my impending arrival. She keeps telling people this is just the way I am, and I’m being cautious. Considering the issues currently engulfing Shawshank‘s paperwork, as much as I want to leave, I can’t. I don’t feel like I can. There’s been so many problems in this whole “we know what we’re doing, everything will go smoothly” process, I backed out of asking yesterday.
Unfortunately, the problems continue. The consulate was able to give us a tracking number on the paperwork’s return journey, but it was incomplete. I suggested Shawshank bring what he had to the TinyTown post office and see if they could look it up. They helped. As it turns out, the paperwork was last seen in Regina and is “in transit”. The alert on the Canada Post tracking page politely but snarkily tells us it was expected to arrive three days ago and won’t be scanned again until it shows up in TinyTown. Shawshank will still check the post office a few times a day. He has a theory about its delivery. It will show up at the post office today, while his mother has the truck and shops for groceries.
That’s exactly what the universe would do.
Today’s a human day. I have 2.5 slices of leftover pizza in the fridge, and a box of cereal on the counter. The cats need more litter. I need to do some laundry.
This sucks.
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