rushedAs planned, upon waking, Julien called Mr Mohammed and asked about when we could get the house.
Thursday's good for me, he said.
THURSDAY!? This Thursday, as in the 24th, two days from now? Eeep! How about we scratch all other items off the list, like that frivolous wish for belly dancing, and concentrate on packing? I guess I can work on my shimmies while sorting things and practice my Arabic hip walk while toting things to the living room.
If things go to plan--we still have to hunt down C and get the keys from her and we have no idea where she is, her only number being the home number where she is no longer staying--I guess I won't be around Internet land for a while, not until we get the phone/provider service switched over to the new place.
