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i have been in a foul all day, still trying to shake off the events of yesterday. The day started out ok, got a lot done this morning with my car. New brakes, the a/c fixed, cleaned inside and out. Went to the bank and got the money for rent. Tried to give it to Master and was told to put it in my wallet, wouldn't get lost there. Remember those words.
Came home, pooched around a bit and then it was time to take the dog for his run. The sand had started again, but if the dog doesn't run, our lives are miserable in the evening. Got about half way to the desert and i asked how the gas situation was. Master looked and turned off the expressway immediately to look for a station.
After some driving around in a strange area, we found a station, and Master got out to put in the gas. Dog is in the back seat anxious as all get out to get out to the desert. There are kids hanging around the station. They are not used to dogs, Dogs aren't the most favored pet in Kuwait. Max is barking like a mad man. i reach down to get my purse and get out my wallet, and can't find it.
No problem, i know where i had it last, in Master's car this morning. i ask Master to pay for the gas, i will repay Him when we get home. He does. We run the dog. He pooches around for a bit to cool down after his run. We drive home. The sand is coming up again.
Get home, down in the car park, dog is out, Max and i are waiting for the elevator while Master goes to His car to find my wallet. The elevator doesn't come. i pound on the doors with my fist, sometimes kids hold the elevator while their sibs or friends go to the bathroom. The elevator still doesn't come. Master comes back sans wallet, and the elevator doesn't come. He decides we should go back to the detail shop to see if anyone, by chance has found it and turned it in. With the dog. Who doesn't much care for Third World Nationals. And they don't much care for dogs. No one saw the wallet. No one speaks English. I could have asked if they had seen their dicks that day and no one would have seen them. i suggested calling the police, that they understood, and was about to turn into an hysterical fool.
The thought of losing the money was one thing. i have had less money to spend on my kids for2 months than i had in my wallet today. But even more distressing was the thought of the loss of my visa card, driver's lisence, university card, and most importantly, my civil i.d. The one thing i can be put in jail for not having with me if the police should happen to ask.
The police don't come. i can't give them the name of the street because i don't read Arabic. i can tell them where i am near, but i have no idea how far from where i know. i can't tell them the name of the car place because i don't read Arabic. They are trying to be helpful, but the police man i was talking to had only a bit more knowledge of English than i have or Arabic. Finally i give up. The hassle is not worth the headache. i will eat the rent money. i will call the bank and stop my visa and bank card. i will go to all the ministries and jump through all the hoops to get legal again. Unless the war starts, and then i won't leave Kuwait because i have nothing to prove who i am as i try to pass all the check points in Kuwait on the way to the Saudi border.
And then Master reaches down between my seat the the console. And pulls up my wallet. And i discentergrate into an hysterical crying woman. One whom Master can not stand to see cry. He asks what's the problem, and i have to tell him this was the straw that broke the camels back. It is a culmination of a whole week's worth of shit.
And i have to pee. And it's all His fault. And in a few days i'll be able to laugh about it. But now i feel like shit.
Came home, pooched around a bit and then it was time to take the dog for his run. The sand had started again, but if the dog doesn't run, our lives are miserable in the evening. Got about half way to the desert and i asked how the gas situation was. Master looked and turned off the expressway immediately to look for a station.
After some driving around in a strange area, we found a station, and Master got out to put in the gas. Dog is in the back seat anxious as all get out to get out to the desert. There are kids hanging around the station. They are not used to dogs, Dogs aren't the most favored pet in Kuwait. Max is barking like a mad man. i reach down to get my purse and get out my wallet, and can't find it.
No problem, i know where i had it last, in Master's car this morning. i ask Master to pay for the gas, i will repay Him when we get home. He does. We run the dog. He pooches around for a bit to cool down after his run. We drive home. The sand is coming up again.
Get home, down in the car park, dog is out, Max and i are waiting for the elevator while Master goes to His car to find my wallet. The elevator doesn't come. i pound on the doors with my fist, sometimes kids hold the elevator while their sibs or friends go to the bathroom. The elevator still doesn't come. Master comes back sans wallet, and the elevator doesn't come. He decides we should go back to the detail shop to see if anyone, by chance has found it and turned it in. With the dog. Who doesn't much care for Third World Nationals. And they don't much care for dogs. No one saw the wallet. No one speaks English. I could have asked if they had seen their dicks that day and no one would have seen them. i suggested calling the police, that they understood, and was about to turn into an hysterical fool.
The thought of losing the money was one thing. i have had less money to spend on my kids for2 months than i had in my wallet today. But even more distressing was the thought of the loss of my visa card, driver's lisence, university card, and most importantly, my civil i.d. The one thing i can be put in jail for not having with me if the police should happen to ask.
The police don't come. i can't give them the name of the street because i don't read Arabic. i can tell them where i am near, but i have no idea how far from where i know. i can't tell them the name of the car place because i don't read Arabic. They are trying to be helpful, but the police man i was talking to had only a bit more knowledge of English than i have or Arabic. Finally i give up. The hassle is not worth the headache. i will eat the rent money. i will call the bank and stop my visa and bank card. i will go to all the ministries and jump through all the hoops to get legal again. Unless the war starts, and then i won't leave Kuwait because i have nothing to prove who i am as i try to pass all the check points in Kuwait on the way to the Saudi border.
And then Master reaches down between my seat the the console. And pulls up my wallet. And i discentergrate into an hysterical crying woman. One whom Master can not stand to see cry. He asks what's the problem, and i have to tell him this was the straw that broke the camels back. It is a culmination of a whole week's worth of shit.
And i have to pee. And it's all His fault. And in a few days i'll be able to laugh about it. But now i feel like shit.