You don't know this, but I'm not at work. And I shouldn't be, so that works out okay I guess. But part of the whole not-being-at-work-today thing is that I'm actually supposed to be in Flagstaff at a southwest archaeology conference. With the people I work with. So it's kind of like being at work, only with mosquitos, foldy chairs, dogs, kids, tents, beer, bluegrass, and archaeology (as opposed to administrative tasks).
Instead, I went with Raphael to the immigration office early this morning and an hour later, even though nothing more traumatic than usual had actually happened, proceeded to freak out while packing the cooler.
Jenny: Where the f*** is the half n' half!?!
Raphael: The half of what?
Jenny: I don't know what it is!!! Half milk half cream?!? Who cares!?! I need it!!! I can't go to Flagstaff with no half n' half!!!
Raphael: Is this about the green card?
Jenny: No!! Shut up!!!
Anyway, what with the missing half n' half, the new and fun burning pain in my stomach, the forgetfulness, and the unexpected bouts of anger, it seemed reasonable to not drive the four hours up to Flag. Alone. Look, ma! I can make adult decisions now!
I'll leave tomorrow morning instead and won't have internet access again until late Sunday.
So the deal is this: only one person is allowed to worry about this for the next three days, and that is The Lawyer.
My sister asked me on the phone this afternoon to tell her when deportation jokes are funny again. I told her deportation jokes will always be funny. They'll be funny until we're on the boat to Guatemala. In fact, they'll probably be even funnier then because nothing is more hysterical than things that are funny because they're so true. (Unless you count me, of course.) (See? Funny because it's true!)
So, on that note, I think everyone should quit being afeared for Raphael's status and start looking into tickets to Guatemala. After all, it's always nicer to visit a place when you've got people to stay with.