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LUE: Kafka Komedy
Oct. 6th, 2024 06:29 pmWe actually did get a few important things done at the Ministry of the Interior today, even if my appointment was for 12:48 and we didn't get seen until 13:10. (Lest you think this was down to us, we arrived at the office to take a number at 12:25 sharp. My watch still works.)
At any rate, Eyal and I are now officially registered as a married couple with the State of Israel. His marital status has been changed; he will receive his new national identification card in a month. I changed my last name; I will receive my new national identification card in a month and my new passport in six weeks (Eyal doesn't need a new passport as marital status is not recorded on passports). In the event that we need to travel internationally in the next six weeks, I will be permitted to exit and enter Israel on my American passport. (Highly unlikely, but still.) How much did it cost? Zero. Nothing. Which is some consolation, considering it took so long to get it done.
Then we got home, stopping along the way to pick up toilet paper. Almost immediately I got a text from our friend Yehuda in Holon, asking if we were okay. Like an idiot, I said sure, I hadn't heard any missile alerts on my phone, what was going on?
A terrorist shooting at the Beersheva Central Bus Station. As of now (18:41 Israel time): one killed, ten wounded, three treated at Soroka Medical Center for acute anxiety. The shooter was killed at the scene.
Shortly after that my sister-in-law Sarah texted, asking how we were. We reassured her that we were fine.
And to be honest, while we were both physically intact, we were not okay.
I developed a killer tension headache. And so did Eyal Because why should today be different from every day last week? Missiles from Iran, my father-in-law being sick (bronchitis btw - he's on antibiotics, but we still worry, he's 81), bureaucracy, almost running out of toilet paper. Of course we both got tension headaches.
We turned off the lights in the bedroom, turned on the air conditioner, flung ourselves on the bed, and hoped for the best. Eyal took an ibuprofen; I didn't, as I don't like to take them too often.
It got better. Eventually.
Kafka could probably write my life now, in all its absurdity. He's been much on the literary's world mind of late, what with it being the centennial of his death and his diaries being released in English for the first time. He viewed his stories as comedies, by the way. If you look at them the right way and squint, they are.
Draw your own conclusions about my current state of affairs.
At any rate, Eyal and I are now officially registered as a married couple with the State of Israel. His marital status has been changed; he will receive his new national identification card in a month. I changed my last name; I will receive my new national identification card in a month and my new passport in six weeks (Eyal doesn't need a new passport as marital status is not recorded on passports). In the event that we need to travel internationally in the next six weeks, I will be permitted to exit and enter Israel on my American passport. (Highly unlikely, but still.) How much did it cost? Zero. Nothing. Which is some consolation, considering it took so long to get it done.
Then we got home, stopping along the way to pick up toilet paper. Almost immediately I got a text from our friend Yehuda in Holon, asking if we were okay. Like an idiot, I said sure, I hadn't heard any missile alerts on my phone, what was going on?
A terrorist shooting at the Beersheva Central Bus Station. As of now (18:41 Israel time): one killed, ten wounded, three treated at Soroka Medical Center for acute anxiety. The shooter was killed at the scene.
Shortly after that my sister-in-law Sarah texted, asking how we were. We reassured her that we were fine.
And to be honest, while we were both physically intact, we were not okay.
I developed a killer tension headache. And so did Eyal Because why should today be different from every day last week? Missiles from Iran, my father-in-law being sick (bronchitis btw - he's on antibiotics, but we still worry, he's 81), bureaucracy, almost running out of toilet paper. Of course we both got tension headaches.
We turned off the lights in the bedroom, turned on the air conditioner, flung ourselves on the bed, and hoped for the best. Eyal took an ibuprofen; I didn't, as I don't like to take them too often.
It got better. Eventually.
Kafka could probably write my life now, in all its absurdity. He's been much on the literary's world mind of late, what with it being the centennial of his death and his diaries being released in English for the first time. He viewed his stories as comedies, by the way. If you look at them the right way and squint, they are.
Draw your own conclusions about my current state of affairs.
