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August 11, 2004
End of the Season
Tonight was probably my last softball game of the season--and we won! I must say that I was a splendid catcher, dutifully dodging all tipped balls (no dental coverage, you know). There is a small possibility that I will play next week, depending on when the rain-out is rescheduled. If our team wins that one, we're in the playoffs!
Hmm, what else?
In a sneaky move, USPS delivered the missing package on Tuesday. No acknowledgment that the parcel was missing or delayed, just a "here you go". Hmph. But at least I now have a Sweden-compatible Palm Pilot.
Still no word from the Embassy or the Migration Board--I will start calling Sweden in an hour (3 a.m.) for another follow up. If they haven't made significant progress, I'm going to start panicking. But for the next 50 minutes, I'm going to suspend my disbelief and trust that everything is going to work without a hitch.
I didn't make it to Carmax--but its on the list for tomorrow, along with lunch in the park with LD. Fingers are crossed for good weather. I know I should be savoring these hot, humid days while they last (it's 70 degrees in Karlskrona right now, and will only get colder), but I just can't do it. To be truthful, it's not the heat or the humidity--it's the mosquitoes. There is something about my parents' house, too, that just breeds mega-mosquitoes. Janie and I are both covered in ugly, red welts from our brief stints in the yard. With my luck, airport security will stop me in Copenhagen as a suspected bio-terror weapon.
My big accomplishment of the day was packing my second suitcase. Now that I'm back in the basement guest room I decided that it was time. Fortunately, everything looks like it's going to fit--and be under the weight limit. Hurray! Of course, now I have only a very limited wardrobe from which to choose for the next week. The real problem I forsee is that the remaining clothes are completely at odds with the remaining shoes. I'll be taking a page from Janie's book and wearing a t-shirt, skirt, and rainboots for all my farewell outings.
I think that about sums it up--I think I'll take 30 minutes and muster my emotional capacity for frustration in preparation for the Swedish Migration Board debacle that is sure to follow.
