It’s been one of those days. There are bound to be a few as we navigate the world of visas and setting up our lives in Spain. The endless paperwork, certifications, Apostles and confusion.
I woke up this morning to a message from the bank in Valencia. Apparently showing that you have accounts with money in them isn’t enough for Spanish bankers to believe that this is the pile of cash you will use to seed the account you’re opening in their bank. I’m at a bit of a loss at how to overcome this one. Should I take a bunch out at the ATM and photograph myself rolling around the floor in it? Then I could tell them that I’d only deposit the ones that stick to my skin into their bank.
I called the Secretary of State’s office in our state to verify that they could Apostlize our birth certificates and marriage certificate from another state. They told me they could and gave me directions – 30 miles away, mind you – so I could get this done today. Off I went, in order to check another thing off my list. When I got there, they informed me that they could not, in fact, do this for me. I would need to contact the Secretary’s of State in those other states and find out how they certify these documents. I was stunned. I called this morning before getting in the car!
On my way home from this 60 mile round trip from the State capitol city – I decided to stop at Jamba Juice for my Greens and Ginger smoothie with some Boosts. The young man who greeted me asked me how my day was. He regretted it instantly, I am very sure, as his hair blew back from my tale of woe. Afterwards, he asked me nicely what I would like to order and I looked at the menu. They didn’t have a Boost for curing ‘Document Hell’ or to rid me of ‘Bureaucracy Nightmare’ so I settled from some protein and vitamins. I thought about getting cayenne pepper added in, to marry with the fire in my belly, but decided against it.
As he was handing me my drink, he said he hoped my day would get better and ‘Keep that smile on your face, and it will all work out.’ Little did he know that the smile was ironic, from chewing glass for the last 30 miles. But then I stopped and thought about it. He’s right – this Jamba Juice guy. All I could really do is laugh. This process might seem crazy to me, but it did guarantee that only the most persistent, earnest expats would be living in my new country. We will be mingling with a group of people who were very serious about living in Spain. And you know how I know that? Cause I’m very serious about it too. Thank you, Jamba Juice guy. For the Boost of Perspective.