My lost luggage showed up today, after taking a short vacation in Brazil. I don't know how my luggage got routed to Brazil from Heathrow, but the tag was still on my bag when I picked it up from the front desk at Le M this evening. And, contrary to my dad's fears, nothing appears to be missing.
Today was a busy day at the office. Ireland was gone all morning because our idiot company first failed to copy and paste the correct text that Ireland had sent them into her visa request for Pakistan (she leaves Sunday). Then they did the copy and paste correctly, but failed to stamp the letter. She received it 20 minutes before the Pakistani embassy closed. When I saw her this evening she was in a bad mood because of her foot. The bruising is really setting in and it looks marvellous. She told me after it happened at the wedding she took one of those champagne buckets, filled it with ice, stuck her foot in it and prayed her parents wouldn't walk by and see her. It's almost like we're twins, separated at birth.
When I got in this morning I decided to move to a new desk because I didn't like the ethernet cord at my original desk (it's black, yuck, I only use the blue ones). The desk was kind of dirty so I asked the office manager where I might get some cleaning supplies. She looked at me, horrified, and said "you can't clean the desk!" I thought maybe that was for religious reasons, and decided I would sneak clean it while she was at lunch, but then I heard her telling our "office boy" to clean my desk.
The office boy is a very sweet skeletal little youngster. Yesterday he was so afraid of me that if I entered any part of the office where he was he would scamper away and hide in the supply closet. I told the office manager that I could clean my desk myself, but the office boy had already sprinted in and cleaned it for me. As I thanked him he drew in his breath and made this horrible sound. His eyes got really big. Then he gingerly lifted my water bottle, which he had placed on another desk so he could clean my desk, and placed it exactly where I had set it earlier that morning. Then he covered his ears and ran away.
Well, he'll be in the closet for at least the rest of the morning, I thought to myself. But he came by my desk at lunch to see if I wanted him to bring me some food. I said "what would you recommend I have for lunch?" I guess he didn't know what to say, because he backed away from me slowly, clutching the front of his shirt, and when he got to the door, he ran away again.
A, who is the other architect I will be working with, came in at 4 pm and wanted to talk shop. I was pretty tired, having been working since 730, but we chatted until 6. He gave me a little cactus. He gives all the architects a cactus when they start working his program. I started telling him about my cacti, currently residing with Joe (tammy faye cactus, I miss you!) and he went to his desk and brought me a bigger cactus, with a flower on it. Ireland was like "hey, how come she gets the cactus with a flower on it?" and A said "Do you even know where your cactus is?" Ireland claimed someone stole it, but then A walked over to this cabinet next to Ireland's desk, flung it open, and pulled out the saddest little yellow cactus you've ever seen. Ireland said "I wonder how it got in there?" like it had magically transported itself into the cabinet.
Tomorrow I'm going to Dubai to get my residency visa. And hopefully a new SIM card for my phone. Then Ireland is taking me to the "special" store, where one can procure wine. Important to do before Ramadan starts...
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