15 Sep Just One of Those Days…

Ever have one of those days where everything just sucks?

Ok- ostomates, I know you’ve had plenty those days, which is most likely why you’ve ended up with an ostomy…

But I mean like, one of those days.

Today was one of those days for me.

When I arrived in Newark airport to start school a week and a half ago, two immigration offers forgot to give me a specific piece of paper that I needed to be legal in the US. I realized this a week later when the International Student Office at NYU told me I was missing this paper- even though I asked these two immigration officers if I had everything. I was living in America ILLEGALLY. Dundundun.

“Are you sure I have everything?” I asked on my arrival, after a 3 hour flight delay.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“Are you sure I have everything? What do I show when I leave the country.”

“Just show them this paper” (wrong paper)

“I have to bring both of these 8×11 pieces of paper with me?”

“Yep. And that’s it. I think. Hey, [talking to other immigration officer] does she have everything?”

“Yeaaaah she’s fine! You’re ok to go!“

No. No I was not.

In order to be fine, I was told that I had to get this little piece of paper by going all the way back to the airport (about an hour ride and not a cheap ticket), wait,  go through some long process, and then travel back. I spoke with a few people on the phone and they told me when and where to go.

So I had to travel because the immigration officers made a mistake. Things like this really get me sometimes.

Anyways, fine, I had to do it, so I got up this morning, bought a return train ticket to the airport, and was on my way.

I get there. I wander. I run into a security guard. She asks me what I’m looking for and I tell her.

“It’s closed.”

“It’s closed? The person on the phone last week told me it was open at this time.”

“Closed.”

So I called the phone number I had prior to my trip. They told me it should be open.

I asked the security guard again.

“No. It is closed. I don’t know who you’re talking to on the phone. It’s closed. Come back tomorrow. ” (insert rude glare here)

I had just paid a ton of money to get to the airport, took the morning off from my job, traveled for an hour, and you’re telling me I have to come back tomorrow??

No. Not happening.

Just. Not. Happening.

So of course, of course, it’s the one time in like forever my hormones have conquered my brain (sorry boys) and I start crying!

Me! Crying! That, like, never happens in general, let alone in public!

It was horrifying.

So I leave this horrible lady’s post and I find some other security guard who I ask what to do in between sobs. He suggests I go all the way to JFK airport and that there’s a shuttle that will take me there.

Ok. Cool.

Wait…

For a price, of course. Of course.

There’s nothing else I can do, obviously, so, bawling, I find myself at the ticket counter where the ticket lady calms me down as she takes my credit card. The shuttle driver was nice enough to wait beside me until I was checked in before he left.

45 minutes later (without traffic) I arrive at JFK.

Tears are gone but my makeup is smudged.

Oh god, they’re not going to let me emigrate here looking like a wreck. I look like a drug addict. Pull yourself together, woman!

I compose myself.

I find the room that I need to go to in order to get this frustrating piece of paper.

I walk in and quickly explain my situation.

I hand over my passport and then I sit down.

7 minutes later… I have the paper.

“Thanks, Miss. Have a nice day.”

…

Are you kidding me???

Ok, awesome, great, I don’t have to wait for another 2 hours for this stupid paper, but this entire trip and all the money it cost to get there was for a 7 minute process??

Of course it was only for a 7 minute process.

I grab my passport and start my journey home.

Oh, obviously the trip’s not over.

I get on the airtrain, which takes me to the subway station,-which of course I have to pay for since I can’t use the return ticket I bought for the other airport. I get to the subway and and take another hour ride to get home. I could have done it the faster way, but I wasn’t going to splurge the extra 3 dollars for this nonsense. I just wanted to be home.

Well, I stopped at the grocery store to get some frozen yogurt on the way.

It helped.