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62 Days

The house:
Water filtration system is now in. There’s no arsenic, but the tank leaks. The driveway is scheduled to be sealed. Two estimates for some window replacements are scheduled for the windows that have somehow rotted out. The Persian rugs have been rolled up and stored at your mother-in-law’s house. The family photos have been removed from the hallway. The house is slowly becoming renter-ready, if only you had a renter to rent it.

The documents:
All birth certificates and marriage certificates must have an apostille. Originally, you thought that meant a certified copy with a raised seal. Um, no. That would be too easy. An apostille is a document certifying the authenticity of said document in question with a signature, a raised seal, stapled with the flap open, and stamped across the flap—all obtained from the original state the document was processed. You have received your birth certificate with apostille, but you still await two more birth certificates and a marriage certificate. The clock is ticking, and the appointment with the Austrian consulate is quickly approaching. You’re afraid that if you don’t have the documents in order, the consul will turn all Gandalf and shout, “You shall not pass!”

The school:
*In Vienna: Registration fee has been wired. Paperwork has been signed electronically. TB test has been scheduled. Passport photos have been taken. He’s all set.

*Here: Oof. One week left in which to accomplish an impossible load of work AND find someone with credentials to review the portfolio.

Packing:
A packing box for the iMac has been procured. If only you knew how you were going to transport it there. Shipped? Extra baggage? Accio iMac?

You’ve also begun gathering the out-of-season things you’ll need: winter coats, sweaters, long-sleeve shirts. And you wonder how you’re ever going to fit it all in the suitcase.

State of mind:
Let’s leave that for now, shall we?



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