I am trying to decide what to do. This morning we talk about me going to Charleston with David to the jewelry show and then flying home from Atlanta. Apparently David's brother has a dealer working for him and he isn't doing such a good job so this is why he is going up there. He suggests to his brother that perhaps I could join this guy and help sell the jewelry. He runs it by me first and I say, sure why not. As a backup, David finds a flight for next Tuesday for $112 to Seattle. I know that my son Christopher won't want to drive to Seattle to get me but perhaps my good friend Fran will, or else I will take a bus. I go along with that for a while but start to look at flights out of Miami to Manchester England to go see family instead, or to Palm Springs to go see Ron Oliver. Both are pricey right now so I rule them out. And to be honest, if I am going to fly anywhere other than back home, I'd still rather go to the BVI.
At some point I hear David talking to the dealer and suggesting that I come and help him sell. He says I am single and then says the guy can see my photo online. This pisses me off. Who cares what I look like if all I am there for is to help sell jewelry?!? I get depressed about the turn this whole trip has taken and irritated at the thoughts of being dragged around the countryside and shown off like a piece of meat and I tell David to forget it, I am going to go home this week. I ask him if we are going to try to go to Disney World as we had planned or not, that I am in Florida with 4 passes in my wallet and I really want to go. We had talked about going the day after I got here but then he needed to go get the trailer that he now doesn't need anymore. We then talked about going this coming Wednesday instead. He works it out that we can drive straight to Orlando Wednesday morning, spend the day at Disney World, over-night in a motel, and then I can fly out Thursday morning. Fine, I say, I will do that. I start looking for flights from Orlando to Vancouver, as taking a bus is a SIX HOUR trip from Seattle to Langley, normally a two hour drive at worst, and that just isn't acceptable. And I don't feel right asking Fran. I find one for $249 but don't book it.
Fed up with all of the changes in plans and frustrated, I change into a swim suit and go outside to the pool. It's another gorgeous, hot day out and I work on my tan and read. It works to settle my mind and my emotions back down. I start to think about driving up to Charlotte N. Carolina and how we would be driving through Georgia and I have always wanted to see Georgia and Savannah. This might be my only opportunity. And if I stick around for another week, that would give me a better chance of finding another boat before I give up and go home. I decide that I will go to the jewelry show and, should nothing materialize, fly home on Tuesday next week. I dread telling David because he thinks I have made up my mind and he felt earlier that I should go home the day after Disney World.
Around 5 I come in an
d shower and we go for dinner to Whataburger. Whatatastlessmeal. On the way I tell David that I have decided to go with Plan A. He doesn't know what that means. I tell him I will go to the jewelry show, and then fly home next week. He rolls his eyes and laughs at me. I don't know what that means but at least he didn't say no, and it doesn't escape my notice that he is not the only one who can't commit as I flop between decisions. By-the-way; the drink that comes with my burger order is massive. It's a medium. Why are food portions in the states about 3 times the size of the ones in Canada? It might explain why there seems to be a considerable amount of seriously obese people everywhere I look.We stop at a store on the way home so that David can return something he bought earlier today while I was pool-side. I go in and look for a bigger purse. The one I brought was bursting at the seams with all I needed to put in it to carry onto the plane and I found it hard to carry. I find one but it's $60. It has some woman's name on it I don't know and a bunch of silver stuff. It says the regular price is $100. It must be a designer but I don't know her and it's too expensive. I find a cheap one and go to buy it but the line up is 8 people deep at one cash register operated by a 70 year old woman who looks like she just stepped out of Hee Haw, thinning grey hair tinted an unnatural shade of lavender and teased and piled on top of her head. She is moving at the pace of a receding glacier and I leave without buying the bag. I will have to find one later.
Once home, David wants me to put the pamphlet pages on separate files, as his computer and the one at the printers distorts the page when opened. I turn them all into individual PDF files and this works great. Now for a cup of tea and off to bed early. I have to be up at 3:30 a.m. to leave for Miami in the morning. It's a 5 hour drive and David has to be at the passport office by 10 to get new pages put in his passport. He has to drop it off and return in 5 hours so we are going to go see the beach there. I have always wanted to see Miami Beach ever since watching The Birdcage.
