feeling like an idiot again

There is one thing about living here in Jerusalem that absolutely drives me bonkers. The mail. I can't read it.

Today when I checked my mail, there was a piece of folded paper with some kind of form on it and handwriting in some of the blanks. I got really excited thinking that my package from my brother had finally arrived. I assumed that since it had a line that had tomorrow's date and 0800 (time) on it, that I could pick up my package at the post office tomorrow morning after 8:00.

So armed with my happy news, I walked joyfully down the street, helping strangers when I could and smiling a lot. A little girl dropped her bag as she was crossing the street with her Mom and it rolled under the car that was waiting for the light to turn green... she was crying and I went back to the car to see if I could reach it for her--of course being careful to make sure the driver knew what I was doing. Alas, I could not reach it and the driver wouldn't back up just a bit so I could. The mother was very grateful even though I was unsuccessful. Oh well. My package has finally come, so I'm still happy!

After doing my shopping, I was walking down the street and I met that guy again -- the one that asked me out the other day. How weird is that? We chatted a bit and talked about getting some coffee tomorrow maybe. Well, I'm thinking to myself, things are looking up!

Then I went to Sandra's to watch the boys and was all excited to show her my notice to pick up my package. Only thing is that it's not from the post office; it's from the police. That's right, THE POLICE. And we have no idea what it says. I'm resting in the fact that I have not committed any crimes ever in my life and that if they come after me, they'll be just like the delivery people who can't find my apartment. Hey, maybe that "3" on the door is a good thing after all!