Janna's handiwork

Well, yeserday I was pretty excited about our trip. I had to work most of the day--I usually work later on Thursdays anyway and had to do as much as I could before I left--groceries, bank, etc. I managed to squeeze in lunch with Becky and she wished me Bon Voyage. She was looking forward to a visit with her daughter too. Ray and I had some errands to do. We went to the bank and picked up a few things at Kroger as well. At the bank we went to get my passport out of the safe deposit box. Ray had been carrying his around with him since he came back from Oslo a year ago! Unfortunatly, that turned out to be a bettter plan than mine--it wasn't in the safe deposit box!! I couldn't believe it. I really had no idea where else it could be.

When we got home, I began looking through piles of paper near my computer. I tried to imagine what I would have done with it when I came back from France last year. The most likely scenario seemed to be that I had it in the car and just never got around to taking it to the bank--or I had given it to Ray to take care of for me and he had left it in a "to do" pile. He looked in the car, the garage, the study, through every pile he had. Although I began to panic, I thought it must be in the house somewhere and I would find it. I began sytematically to ransack the house, starting in my closet, looking through all my piles of clothng, checking every old purse. I opened every drawer and made sure there was no place something the size of a passport could be hidden. I moved all the books on my bedside table. All the while I knew there was no way it could be any of these places. Ray looked through all the suitcases in the basement. My mother made a great dinner, but I refused to sit down and eat. My father suggested if I took a break, I would be more functional. I began to go through every piece of paper in the area, putting them in boxes and bags when I was sure there was nothing in there. I looked behind furniture, took things out of drawers. The area began to look like a tornado or a burglary. At this point, I was convinced it had somehow gotten taken to the dump and it started to hit me that there was nothing I could do, I was not going to be able to go. In this climate, there was no way I could talk my way into letting me travel without my passport--never mind that a few years ago, it would not be a problem to go to Mexico that way. Well, if I could have gotten into Mexico, I certainly couldn't have gotten back into the US. (A friend of Ray's 12 year old daughter's name was spelled differently and it held them up for 4 hours!) You can't get a passport, even in a rush, overnight. (it turns out you can--for $300, Ray looked on line, but it was probably too late in the day). Anyway, I turned over a piece of paper and there it was, between two random things, campaign literature from last fall, no rhyme or reason to it. I kissed it, I was so relieved. Moral of the story: don't give up. I was planning to keep looking all night until it was time to leave for the airport. Ray said he wouldn't go without me, which was pretty dumb, but kind of touching. Expensive...Actually, the moral of the story is, keep your passport in a safe place, check it well before your trip.

Like hitting your thumb with a hammer because it feels so good when you stop, we were all very happy that it "turned up." I was exhausted and sore. I enjoyed my dinner and a little wine, packed some and tried to relax. But I could not fall asleep for hours. Adrenaline, I guess!