Some days, moving just stinks. You feel like you are trying to swim through mud. We keep trying to get cell phones. We are trying to use our perfectly good and expensive phones from the U.S. We’ve paid them off. We’ve unlocked them. We’ve applied for new sim cards. We’ve verified Dean’s employment. We’ve explained our lack of utility bills. Now they want immigration paperwork. When will we get phones? Who knows!

The house will hopefully have furniture tomorrow. I’m supposed to be there at 10 a.m. to accept the furniture. If I had a phone I would Uber there. I don’t have a phone.

Neil’s trying to get his Facebook account up and running so he can use messenger to talk to friends. Facebook wants to verify his account by phone. Facebook knows we are in Panama and would like our Panamanian phone number.

Trying to buy a car. Actually, we may have bought the car. We’ve submitted the paperwork to the insurance company. We are told it may take about a week to get insurance. We’d call but you know the drill.

Dean’s been trying to cancel our Auto Club insurance. A feat easier said than done. We tried to cancel while we were still in California, but AAA declined to let us cancel ahead of time (I think it was a Friday and we wanted it to cancel on Sunday). Dean was told that you just call and cancel. Really? He broke down and is currently using AT&T international rates to sit on hold so he can cancel our U.S. auto insurance.

Our container from our old home was picked by U.S. Customs for inspection. Great. At least it would explain why our container hadn’t left Long Beach yet. Three items were removed (a weapons magazine, a baton and a pair of handcuffs. All remnants from Dean’s Marine days.). Now the container is on its way. And I’m hoping Dean isn’t on a watch list.

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