If you've been following my blog for a while, you have already come to the conclusion that I will get my elbow stuck in a tuba case once in a while. Okay that one really didn't happen to me. I just heard about it. But it could have happened to me.
You see Janet, it's this way (time to run and hide this signals long, impossible or headshake producing stories that actually happened-- to me.):
Just before work a little over a week ago, I got notice of LSC receipt--early (And hooray too, the folks over in China rock! Very grateful to them. Very.). Only problem was, I was just going in the door to work, 15 miles away from my computer and the needed paperwork with no way to extricate it or get to it in anything resembling the near future. Paperwork needed now. Now. And by the by, can you get it notarized? Cleared my schedule to get the needed paperwork out the door and on its way. Almost. Meanwhile, there were Chihuahuas running in the street, bicyclists jumping out from between moving cars and one and all trying to get me to hit them. Didn't work. I made it through the gauntlet. Docs out the door and overnighted, hah!
Or so I thought. Phone call the next day: you forgot the I-864. Horrors! No, really. The I-800 can't go in without the I-864. It just can't. It's a permission and the I-800 will just sit there, smiling on someone's desk just as if it had good sense. Or worse. It will sit in the lock box. No one really knows what the lock box is. Well, it's probably a box and has a lock on it...or maybe not. Your assigned officer cannot go get documents out of the lock box. Not even if you beg and promise to be good or say pretty please with sugar on top. I'm not sure if the supervisors can either. This is a Fort Knox kind of thing. Procedures have to be followed. I imagine a kind of Mission Impossible sort of scenario.
Phone call continues: The signed LSC copy sent back immediately--we need the original signed and dated, not just a photocopy as you'd been told. Send both back together. A day's delay. Not good. Not good at all. There's so little time. That was Friday. Saturday, no document. Okay, it will still get there in time if sent next-day delivery on Monday. No document Monday morning. No document Monday noon, Monday afternoon, and no document Monday evening. I'm going bonkers at this point. I call and email my case manager even though I know she won't get the messages until the next day.
I can't sleep. I'm eating chocolate nuked with peanut butter like there's no tomorrow. Try it!! It is way better than a chocolate confection made with those ingredients from the store. Make sure to use dark chocolate and don't burn it. The pieces will still have their shape, they don't have to be liquid. Add Adams peanut butter about two huge spoonfuls. After nuking, not before. About one minute in the microwave. And you'll have bliss. As long as the pyrex measuring cup doesn't explode. That didn't happen--this time.
(Note: Nothing worse than burned chocolate....well, maybe cat pee in the toaster or on a hot stove top. That is truly awful. Truly. Toaster cat exhibited either great talent or sneakiness and cunning beyond belief or maybe total insensitivity. No clues left behind to alert an unsuspecting human who can't smell.)
Anyway, just after midnight: delivery attempted over the weekend but no one home. ARgh! They knew I wouldn't be home and it had to be sent so it could be left! Livid. And what's with sending it via USPS? Wasn't it supposed to come FedEx? Water over the dam. USPS dated the notice for February, not November. It almost got shredded. More chocolate. Try to sleep. Get up, race to post office for the document so it can get out and I can get to work. Only, there's no way they can return it same day. Not even at this early hour. No way. No way. No way. Kind of like a bad dream. FedEx can't perform the deed either. UPS? No. Suggestions? Hiring a private jet. Are you kidding me?!! You're not kidding. You leave me no option. Mama's gotta do what Mama's gotta do: Cancel work. Like I don't need the money. Immanuel's life is worth more than anything. And I'm not going down. He's coming home. That's IT!
Grab the kids. Grab the dog. At least he's happy. He gets a ride. Rides = good to him. Call and email the agency, I'm coming. Adrenaline combined with prayer and purpose carried me almost the entire way to Seattle, despite the lack of sleep. As I drove, I practiced controlled breathing, prayed, reminded myself how lucky I was to be able to take off to do something so vitally important. I counted my blessings and admired the beautiful scenery and tried to enjoy the sunshine. The original LSC got signed and submitted. The I864 had to be redone anyway to conform to new instructions which we wouldn't have been able to do without the delay and drive. Lots of times these things happen for a reason. Best of all, we got provisional I800 approval and can look forward to the official approval starting Monday (which actually, technically is today). "Fast away the old year passes..." "Time is slippin' slippin' into the future..."
Wrong turns can be good too--especially if you end up at Ikea and get items you needed anyway plus a yummy lunch.
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