I’m trying to get myself sorted before going. While I’m making an effort, it seems that no one else is. This is what is on the to-do list on my last day before leaving:
- Mr Husband’s workplace messed up his super. It needs to be moved to another company
- the real estate agent still has not come up with a renewal contract for our flat, despite me calling twice and showing in their office once
- the health insurance company has lost all of our receipts that we were claiming and want new ones (this is when being an office-nazi comes in handy. I have copies)
- Telstra. Let me make it brief and say I need to write a complaint. If I don’t, I will lose all self-respect.
On the up-side, the university has decided that I do not need to pack up my office for the three months I’m away. Normally they want the space available for short-term visitors.
That’s the only up side I can come up with.
Right now, the 15 hour flight from Brisbane to Dubai seems like the best offer ever. 15 hours where no one can get a hold of me. 15 hours where I sit still, sleep, read, listen to music, watch a movie and crochet. Because guess who bought crochet needles both in bamboo and plastic? And a new novel by Fred Vargas. Oh yes, I’m prepared! I will be the only passenger on that plane who will stay happily seated, even after 15 hours. AND look forward to the connecting flight, a 7 hour jump from Dubai to Copenhagen. Just need to get through another 24 hours of running around like a mad woman and I’m there.