I Could Go for a Mojito...

Sometimes when you're having a head-pounding, frustrating day, God sends you an English-speaking woman with a fluffy golden retriever, begging for his belly to be rubbed.  Yesterday it was a Croatian man who was so excited the girls and I were from the States, I thought he was going to jump up and kiss me. 

We've been dealing with some pain-in-the-rump issues this week, so these little moments of levity have been very welcome.  I've been testing the limits of my German vocabulary, talking on the phone and exchanging emails with people, trying to find out which forms signed by which people (who may or may or may not be on vacation for an entire month) need to be taken where with what accompanying paperwork.  All while trying to discern which options they've given us will result in certain fines and, by the way, is all this seriously necessary?!?!  All of this effort is going into a process so Audrey can be assigned a number to receive a subsidy from the state for her tuition at school.  We've apparently become so accustomed to our laid-back approach to life over here that this endeavor seems just maddening.  

I can honestly say this is the closest I've come to experiencing culture shock so far.  I know we've only been here three months, but my stunted ability to communicate is frustrating.  I've had seven years of instruction in the German language and at one point could carry on a decent, intelligent conversation.  My comprehension is adequate for the moment, but being able to say what I want (outside of ordering food) without sounding like an idiot or confusing someone else is a rarity.  Naturally, I force myself to do it anyway, knowing at some point it will get easier, but this mess of paperwork, in particular, has been making my head throb.

Hence, the cuddly dog. 

Thanks, God.  I get it.  Lay off the self-deprecating crap and go give that dog some scratches.

Luckily, I only have a few more emails to write and then most of this process has to be delayed until the end of the month (until we can get the necessary signatures).  And by that time I'll have my cocktail shaker.  Coincidence?  I think not.