Ba damuwa, Fist. (No problem)
Well, I had a flight picked out, and even a ride to the airport with two missionary nurses who are going home for a break, and the person who had only to click on a link and purchase the ticket failed to do so and now that flight is booked solid. My poor husband was livid, as he spent hours researching tickets and sent the link so all she had to do was literally click on a link and hit "purchase", but the woman responsible just didn't do it for two days. After the first day the price went up $200 and Bob e-mailed her about that. By the end of the second day she was like "oops, sorry, no tix left, I'll work on it tomorrow."
I seriously thought that if I can't get there in time I'm going to call this woman and give her a phone number and say, here, you call my 80-year old mother and tell her why I can't be there.
I worked frantically entering report card grades and all kinds of other running around so I could leave with things in order. Thank God the student teacher was already in place and they'll just pay her to be the "real" teacher for the last two weeks of school, and she's done splendidly so no worries there. Just sadness as there always is in saying goodbye to 16 little people I've spent lots and lots of time with for the last several months. Monday I am going to bring cupcakes and have a hug party at the end of the day. That will help.

We'll sing their favorite songs; stuff like King of the Jungle, Dance Like David, Wade in the Water, Bottle of Ketchup Song, Baby Shark, Ooples and Boonoonoos.
I know I'm giving Jenn a run for her money here with "my" blather but there is a lot going on and a lot of emotions, good and not so good. I am rather ready for a break from a country where (as a Nigerian man said to me last night) everything is broken.
Roads- broken. Government- broken. Power grid- broken. Economy- broken. Credit system- broken. Criminal justice- broken. Education- broken. Social welfare- broken. Utilities- broken. Health care- broken. Planning and zoning- broken. Environment- broken... you get the idea.
So we'll see what happens. Either I make it to the funeral, or not. It's in God;s hands, not mine.
One more time, cuz it feels so good:
