Yesterday I came back from work to the Sloan Family's house where I have been dog sitting while they were in France for two weeks. They have since returned but had to go pick up there kids at Leslie's parents house. So I am still here and will be until I leave Asheville in a few very short weeks. That being said, the cable guy was at there house replacing a cut wire in the yard from some yard work they had done. I sat inside for about an hour before he came to the door to ask me if I could test the cable out for him. And that is when I saw it. The most beautiful piece of paper taped to a glass door you can ever imagine. A slip from the Post Office with MY name on it saying they had an Express Mail envelope for me. The very envelope I left with my passport and paper work at the Spanish Consulate's office in Washington DC about a month ago.
My heart immediately jumped into my throat and I very rudely told the cable dude to come in and try anything he liked because I had to get to the Post Office before it closed at 5. It was 4:30.
Of course on the way to the Post Office I was behind a slow car AND the stoplight took a solid 3 and a half minutes to change. Those might just have been some of the longest 3 minutes I have very experienced. I finally pulled into the Post Office parking lot and it was all i could do to keep from busting open the doors, running in and telling everyone about what a great day it was.
Of course inside was one postal worker assisting an elderly lady mail her 6 packages to her grandchildren. But I told myself not to get frustrated because I waited 4 long weeks for my visa and I could wait a few more minutes...maybe.
Finally some girl came out from the back and happened to see me and so she helped me. This girl obviously did not share my same enthusiasm about getting the package. She slapped it down on the counter, had me sign a paper and then told me half heartedly to have a nice evening. I told her I definitely would.
Before I even left the double doors I was ripping into the package like it was Christmas Day in the 90's. And then the moment I have literally dreamed about for weeks happened. My old slightly beat up passport with a horrid picture of my 16yr old self slipped out of the package and into my shaking hands. I was literally squealing with joy. All I could do was fist pump and say lots of "Wahoo!"s. I thumbed through the pages past my Ugandan Visa from 07 and found what I was looking for. On page 15 (of course they made me look through the whole passport) it was. The most beautiful visa you have ever seen in your entire life. I pretty much kissed it, ran out the door and fist pumped all the way to the car. Several people in the parking lot gave me some hilarious looks. But there was no way I was caring about that. I probably looked a little something like this..
The whole drive back all I could do was laugh, cry, yell, laugh some more. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone around to share my joyous news with, except that lovely cable guy still working away when I returned. I thought about telling him but I don't think he would have appreciated it. I think he probably thought I was flirting with him because I was so overly nice and bubbly to the guy. oops.
So that's that! I spent the evening celebrating and relaxing and breathing one of the biggest sighs of reliefs I think I ever have. Still lots to be done before departure but that all seems doable now...I think..
Today, I am hoping to move EVERYTHING that still remains in my apartment, out. And then I shall be cleaning and painting, and making sure everything is just right for my land lord.
This. Is. Happening.