The package is still in the hands of DHL in the UK. It was collected from the Passport office in London only hours after I called. The women there turned it over in record time.
But almost 24 hours later it is still in the UK. The call centre and the screen just say it is at a facility in the Midlands.
Being at a facility sounds like a prison doesn’t it. Has my package been using curse words at its handlers. Shrieking to “hurry up” from inside its box but with expletives and been put on a shelf to “Calm down sir, we cannot get you a seat on the plane until you calm down.”
I am anything but calm. My Darling Travel Agent changed my ticket for an afternoon flight on Friday, it was not a cheap exchange. But I think I may have been a bit optimistic.
The Darling Travel Agent and her husband are taking the train to Chicago today (it is the Fourth of July, the United States is on Holiday) and has told me that she is taking all my info with her. In case we have to change the flight again, she said. She is a reader too. One of The Fellowship. What kindness. To pack my things with her things in case she is needed by me while she is on holiday.
My Good Friend in Chicago is watching the screen ready to snap up the passport when it arrives and drive it out to the airport to meet me on Friday. This is our plan.
Good morning. I feel like I am in one of those suspense filled episodes of a badly scripted sit com. Any minute a voice over will come on saying. “Will the passport ever stop ranting. Will the passport make the plane. Will The Good Friend’s car get its new wheel in time. Will Celi’s head explode making a nasty mess all over the barn. Will the piglets find another hole in their pen. Will Celi ever eat again. Will the Darling Travel Agent’s phone find coverage from the train. Will Celi ever get to leave the farm? EVER. And why does Boo keep bringing her knickers from the washing basket. Stay tuned for the next Episode of Mother of the Groom.”
Have a lovely day. Deep breaths.
your breathLess friend, celi