Got the old one returned too, I think. I had a rough evening
on Wednesday, which is the day I got to Bible study. The church is three metro
stops away and right across from a UPS Store.
I had a Netflix coming that day, so when I left the
apartment I made a mental note to verify that I had my post office box key in
addition to my MP3 player, Bible, phone, wallet and package. Note what I did
*not* make a mental note to check.
So once down in the lobby of the building, I realized that
without a house key, I was going to either be crashing at a friend’s or a neighbor’s
if I didn’t solve the problem before church, because the apartment front desk
closes at 8. Since church doesn’t end until then, I went to the apartment's front desk and
got the key of shame – this regular key on a big overseas key ring that says
“Return after 24 hours or there will be a $25 charge.”
By the time I ran back up to the apartment to get the key,
returned the key of shame, took the metro and got off at the church stop, it
was 7:09, and the UPS place closed at 7. I carried the package across the
street to church and, after Bible study, apologized for being late. Pastor Jim
offered to drop off the package the next day, so I’m glad of that.
The whole thing was more annoying than tragic, because I’d
had plenty of time to leave and just waited to time it right before realizing
I’d forgotten my key. Grr.
“Returning swim suit” was one of the little things remaining
on the list, and even though I’ve crossed that one off, it seems the list
itself doesn’t get any shorter.
I’m down to two weeks left – I can tell by the packages of
waffles in the freezer – and the “I’m going to be out of the country for two
years” thing is sinking in again.
I’ve been through this before, of course, for time spans of
27 months, 12 months and 15 months, so it’s almost old hat, but the difference
is this time I have some money and unlimited shipping.
This has led to innumerable trips to Target; two of these
took place last week. My little Redcard card has now saved me almost $35,
making the cost of my soul a little more expensive. As if that’s a consolation.
I’d lost track of what I’d put into the shipping boxes,
which go away upon packout on Nov. 26. I really don’t think I need to bring
much, as China
pretty much has everything.
But will they have grits? Hmm… Jakarta didn’t, so maybe I should throw in
some. (This is the prevailing school of thought.I’m now up to four canisters of them.)
I’ve been doing this for various things lately, not as much for
the stuff itself but for the brand (even if it’s Target), or the form of the
product. (Example: sugar. It’s not always pourable and in a convenient 4-pound
package.)
So my box/pile of stuff is a little out of control, and my
big spur-of-the-moment project yesterday after church was to get a grasp on
what they’ve done.
As a result, I’ve created what no one outside of foreign
service should ever attempt: an inventory list, in Excel (I was in classes all
week), on everything in my HHV, UAB and CO. (These are the three shipments I
get: by boat, by air separate from me, and carried on in the plane.) So far,
I’ve only done the HHE and part of the UAB, although I will likely still add to
it. (I realized it might be tough to get real milk in China, as Asians in
general aren’t as big on it as I am, so I’m going to get some powdered just in
case. And maybe some more grits.)
I’ve no idea if it was a practical idea to do this (or even
all the shopping, for that matter), but I figure when I get the next post, I
will have a start at figuring out how much, say, ibuprofen, I took in two years
to gauge if I need more or less the next time around. And it was a good time-waster on Sunday,
which was a good recharge day for me.
The past week was far more social than I am accustomed to,
and even though I enjoy the company I am an introvert and needed some down
time.
I need that to continue through this week, if only because I
have cooked a big, week-long meal and need to eat it. I’ve been out to dinner
way too much lately, to the point where my last week-long meal started to MOLD.
That was gross.
It’s also time to empty out the refrigerator, and if I don’t
eat here, that’s not going to happen.
But some of the dinners have been awesome. In Delaware, we went to a
pizza place and got strombolis. Mine was easily stretched to two meals, plus
someone else gave me her leftover pizza, so that was another.
My favorite place here has been Fetoosh, which is a
Moroccan-Lebanese restaurant somewhere between home and work. It’s on the
corner, between a 7-11 and a gas station, in the same building as some other,
larger restaurant. Don’t go to that place, go to Fetoosh. It’s fantastic,
although the meals last, in general, for three meals.
Elizabeth, a former Morocco PCV who’s from Panama City, took me there first and wl-lah,
it’s wonderful. I forced myself to get not couscous on Friday; I’d had that the
first two trips and wanted to expand so I had the tagine djej (chicken).
The place is legit. It’s just fantastic and I might have to go
again, really. I’m not sure when, though. I have plenty of food in the freezer
plus just way too much stuff to go between now and then. It also requires a
ride to get there.
But since introducing others to it, it’s been easier to get
a ride. Everyone is anxious to go back.
Anxious. That’s the word for the week, although it might be
more appropriate for next week. I’m just tired of class and getting too
comfortable in my little college-like life. I might not be ready to get to my
new job, but at this point, I really do want to just bring it on.
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