i got up slowly, and was supposed to meet with sorter and -someone online, but they were both ignoring me. it turned out that one was sleeping and the other had (usefully) turned skype's notifications off.
i wasted some time labelling blog posts (as opposed to tidying up a bit), and walked out into a beautiful, sunny, warm -5 day without pavement access. i spent my morning playing with css (my favourite, he says sarcastically), chatted with SxS, and enjoyed vegan cookies that newk'd made.
i left early with a smile, for the magnificent weather and the exciting knowledge that pg would be back soon. i helped a little old lady over a snow-pile and onto the pavement, and entered the metro.
egads - it was hot down there! so much so that i was sweating, and had to remove my jacket and blazer. meanwhile, everyone else kept their coats and hats on and their scarves around their necks... what gives?! everyone made me feel like i must have been having a hot flush or something.
i kept expecting her to walk out any minute.
most people were waiting around an hour or so.
by the time i got to two and a half hours i was losing patience. the thought that pg had somehow slipped past me, not found me and gone home arose, as did my irritation that her phone was off.
what i didn't expect was a phone call from an immigration officer. identifying pg and giving details wasn't a problem, but then i found myself being grilled properly about why we "hid our intent to find a job and settle down" from them the first time. what?!?! as far as we knew, we hadn't done anything wrong. she had all my details from my permit application, and it took quite a bit of explaining while being dressed down.
i'd love to say i kept my cool, but i was panicking and there was even a moment where i was asked a question and my brain froze, leaving me speechless for a few seconds. by the end of the conversation i hoped i'd convinced her that we've been doing everything by the numbers (we have!), and she told me she'd take my words into consideration and call me back.
the next few minutes were very, very tense. if they'd have sent pg back, i would have had no choice but to pack up and leave. i had no idea what pg had said to them and i prayed that she hadn't freaked out and said anything that didn't fit - as it was, she used the word "tourist" instead of "visitor" and i had to explain to the officer that english isn't her mother tongue and that either way we'd both thought they meant the same thing to them).
she called me back to inform me that they were letting her through, with a stern warning to be entirely open with the border officials in the future (we thought we were!). i was reminded of something that's written on the cic website and that i entirely appreciate: entry into canada is not a right, it's a privilege. and these officials have to authority to deny that entry, regardless of what the government thinks.
about fifteen minutes later a thoroughly harassed pg walked out the doors. we'd dodged a bullet, but my swiss princess was decidedly stressed and unimpressed with her treatment. it didn't help any that it was at the end of a long day of travelling.
we got home to discover that the caretaker has done absolutely nothing about our doors or our busted toilet. on the plus side, that gives us an easy enough out with the contract (or do i have to complain in writing?).
my plans for dinner were bust, so i ran out to the supermarket and picked up the first thing that looked alright for two people with little appetite: supermarket sushi (i'm pretty sure it was vegetarian, but i didn't care).
worst sushi ever.
we went to bed early last night and woke up late. aside from a few snarky comments about my housekeeping, cooking pasta for lunch and a few episodes of one piece, we did nothing but lay about or, in my case, label old blog posts while pg rested.