You know, if I'd really thought this through, I know how I could have arranged for the immigration man to arrive sooner than Thursday at 2pm. I was working on my synopsis when the dryer buzzed, so I ran to the patio to bring the freshly laundered sheets inside. I hate wrinkled sheets -- but I also refuse to iron them -- so I try to put them on the bed as soon as they come out of the dryer. (Or I fold them, which I also hate.)
I was just sorting the pillowcases from the tangle of sheets when the doorbell rang, so I dumped the purple tumbleweed-shaped mess onto the mattress and ran to my salvation. The immigration man sat with me for about fifteen minutes, chatting while he filled out several documents.
At one point it occurred to me that it'd be fun to post a picture of him sitting in my living room, but Ibis had taken the camera with him to Lazaro. That's right -- he went to visit our family (and also renew our license plates) because he has a couple days off. When the man asked if my husband was at work, I told him where he was and he asked why I didn't go. I smiled at him and said (in Spanish) "because I had to wait for you."
He felt really bad, and I felt slightly better about all this.
I'm supposed to call on Tuesday to find out when I get my FM3 visa, but in the meantime I'm free to travel throughout the country.
Ibis came home a couple hours later with a surprise: our four-year old nephew! He's going to spend a couple nights with us and they've already spent one afternoon at the municipal pool. Today we'll go to the beach, and I'm thinking the circus tonight. Big Time Fun!