These days are gone.
Last Thursday (only about 20 hours before my departure), I was watching TV when Ch-ard turned to me. "Have you packed yet?" "Umm, no." At 7:45pm I went upstairs. At 8:10pm I came back down and announced, to no one in particular, "Finished!"
But I was not finished unfortunately.
When the German and I arrived at the Hamburg airport on Saturday morning, I realized all of the things that I had forgotten to pack: my ATM card and credit card for my US banking accounts, my US drivers licence, the stash of cash that I keep so that we can get coffee in the U.S. airport. Since we arrived Sunday, I have also discovered missing shorts and socks. Oops.
Personally, I blame the stress of the past few months. My attitude for the past two weeks has been, "Screw it. It will all work out." And, frankly, it usually does. During our trip, the German started to make fun of me and my forgetfulness. Do not worry, his head will not get too big. We paced the hallway in the Hamburg airport looking for our gate.
German: I am telling you, it is B19.
Claire: And I am telling you, there is nothing at B19. Let me see the tickets.
Claire: B19 is your seat assignment, dummy.
Ah, yes. I have forgotten how great travelling with the German can be.
As you may have gathered, we arrived in one piece, if somewhat tired. It was very long trip, but good. I must give Air France an "A" for in-flight service. The seats on the Airbus were slightly bigger. The food was actually good, and there was a lot of it. On my screen I watched three good movies (Casino Royal, Stranger than Fiction, Dreamgirls). There was not even that much turbulence. Unfortunately to fly Air France means flying through Pairs. Flying through Paris means that with 99.9% certainty your plane will be late and there is a distinct possibility that you will lose your luggage.
Since arriving I have done . . . absolutely nothing. Yesterday was the hottest