The Name Game

First of all, let me start by saying: I have officially given my notice at work!! This means that Julien and I are both unemployed. Risky move? Perhaps. But we truly believe that we're supposed to move back to Canada, and I just couldn't leave Charlotte at a babysitter's all day to earn mere pennies at the end of the month. Hopefully we'll get Julien's visa soon, but we know it's in the works. Julien is still looking for a temporary job, so hopefully something will come up soon.

Today's story: if you ever plan on sending me a package while I'm still here, please be sure to put Rebecca and not Becky. Here's why:

I went to the post office box and found a little slip "while you were away, Becky received a package! please go in person to your nearest post outlet for pick up."
Sweet! A package! For me! So I went to the post office, handed in my slip and a piece of ID, and waited for the postman to return. He did return, but without a package.

Post man: "I'm sorry," he said, "but there is no package for Rebecca".

Me: "Um, ok,then why did you put the slip in my box, saying there was a package for Becky"?

Post man: "I can't give you that package, because it's for Becky".

Me: "But I am Becky!"

Post man, looking at me like I'm the dumbest blonde on earth: "No, you're not. You're Rebecca. For all I know, Becky is your brother."

Wow. First, my poor brother; he'd never live that name down! Second, that's the first time in my life that someone has told me that I'm not me. Where at home I could cash cheques, receive packages, and even introduce myself as Becky for just about everything, here, I don't even exist.

To make a long story short, I finished by getting my package 3 days later after going in every single day to ask. I've learned that here it all depends on who you get at the counter, (this happened with my first visa; it took 7 different visits to finally find someone who would accept my birth certificate) and my persistance finally paid off! The worst of it all is that if someone (anyone, even if the cat had answered the door) had been home when the post man arrived the first time, none of the running around would have happened!

Anyway, all is well that ends well and I'm still me, albeit a little older and a little wiser.