
First of all, I had been missing my daughter like madness, and with Rod leaving in a couple days, I just wished for a night or two with all of us together. I don’t like being far from the ones I love; I like them close by, where I can keep an eye on them. Around 7:30 on Monday morning, my cell phone rang, and because I couldn’t get to it, Roddy picked it up and talked to my sister. They’d missed the plane. They’d missed the plane, and there wasn’t another flight that day. They’d try again Tuesday. I didn't cry, but I'm pretty sure I buried my face in my hands and maybe pulled out some of my hair.
Tuesday was not a good day for a trip to SFO. Tuesday was the day Rod was leaving for the UK for a meeting. Tuesday was the day before our house went on the market. A day I had booked a “staging” service, and had handymen, painters, a cleaning lady, and a babysitter all due at my house around 9 in the morning. Suffice to say it was not good news.
We still had our passport appointment to keep, so we arrived promptly at 10:30am and spent 2 full hours standing around, waiting to be seen for our “appointment.” We were finally called to window where the guy behind the glass checked our paperwork and told us to return after 3:30 and pick up the passport. At 3:30, when we returned, I expected to wait in line at the “will-call” window, but I did not expect that I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO GET IN THE LOBBY OF THE BUILDING BECAUSE IT WAS PACKED WITH PEOPLE. Seriously. It was unbelievable. I waited an hour in the lobby, and then another hour in the line upstairs before finally picking up Marlee’s passport. Holy Fucking Grail, we didn't get home until 9.