Thirty minutes of sanity-saving spew?

I might have time for that

People wonder what it’s like to live in a foreign country. Sounds glamorous. Sounds fun. Sometimes, it can be. Sometimes, it isn’t.

This week has contained some of my highest highs and lowest lows since we’ve been here. The dozens of tiny things – good and bad – combine to form an avalanche that threatens to bury me. Some of this can happen anywhere. Some of this is because I live in Portugal.

I don’t usually make to-do lists. This week, I’ve not only had to make one two, I’ve had to decide what from those lists can wait and what needs to come first. To-do list triage.

We’ve got, seven? eight? - I’ve lost count – people coming for dinner tomorrow evening. Most of them are strangers. It seemed like a great idea a few weeks ago to sign up to host a church dinner. And it will probably be great when it happens. I don’t know how we’re going to get there, though. We only just got enough plates last week and flatware yesterday. We still need glasses.

Saturday was an amazing day away from Lisbon out in nature with wonderful friends. We ate fruit off the vine, we talked, we laughed, we played board games. We were outside all day. Yes, it was 37 degrees (98 or so Fahrenheit) but it didn’t feel that hot. We managed to stay in the shade. It was an experience I cherish. It deserves more space here than I can give it. The space it occupies in my heart is immeasurable.

It was followed by a day where I went to church alone for the first time because Amy wasn’t feeling well. That feeling worsened to the point where at 11 pm we decided it was time to seek medical attention. Seeking medical attention in the middle of the night generally is an unpalatable endeavor. Here, where we don’t speak the native language, I don’t have words to describe it. We somehow made it to the hospital without any retching in the Bolt. Fortunately, the doctors, nurses, and technicians spoke English. Mostly. But someone¹ gave a desperately thirsty Amy a cup of water. Thirty minutes later someone else² told Amy that “drinking water is a really bad idea.” We were separated for a while so I have no clue what anyone did or did not do and Amy - dehydrated from all the vomiting, dizzy, in pain, and unable to focus her eyes - wasn’t in a position to keep track either. Did they take her temperature or blood pressure? No idea. It would be nice to know if she had a fever. We still don’t know why this happened (Would we know more if we spoke fluent Portuguese? Hard to say; but it feels like yes.) and she’s only feeling incrementally better four days later.

She was better enough (barely) on Tuesday for us to get to IMT to renew her temporary driver license, which was due to expire next week. Why do we need to renew it? Because it was issued six months ago and we still haven’t gotten the permanent license. What happens if we don’t renew it? I haven’t the foggiest clue but I can imagine that it a) could mean we won’t actually get a permanent license and/or b) trying to restart the license process later could be more difficult. Maybe none of that would happen. But I don’t have the time or the language skills to do the research in Portuguese so we went back to IMT. (Would we know more if we spoke fluent Portuguese? Hard to say; but it feels like yes.) We’d gone a couple of weeks ago on a day when Amy was feeling good. We were told it was too early and we should come back within a week of the expiration date. So we did. A couple of weeks ago, we waited about 45 minutes before being told we couldn’t get it done. Two days ago, we waited three and half hours for a process that took about three and a half minutes to complete. Why the long wait? It’s August so there was only one person behind the counter and also the computers were running slowly. This is why we went two weeks ago: we wanted to get ahead of things. Because who knows what will happen tomorrow. Instead, Amy gets to suffer. Thanks.

You might be surprised to learn that this is not a comfortable place to sit for 210 minutes.

Yesterday was supposed to be a day that took some stuff off the to-do list but it didn’t work out that way. We had a handyman come by to install two ceiling fans and some light fixtures we’d ordered. The guy was great. He also ran into lots of problems, was here from 09:00 to 18:30, and was only able to finish half of what we needed because there were wiring issues with the apartment and one of the fans didn’t have the correct parts in the box(!). Now, I get to figure how to manage finding the correct parts. The fan is in the ceiling but the light fixture isn’t attached. Will Leroy Merlin³ give me the light fixture we need or will I have to take down and disassemble a working item and carry it back there? That’s a battle for next week. (Would that be an easier conversation if we spoke fluent Portuguese? Hard to say; but it feels like yes.)

We had bad news from the US a few days ago. A good friend of ours passed away. On one hand it’s actually not bad news. He was in a lot of pain and the cancer took him quickly, at least. On the other, it’s a lesser world without Vince. The loss weighs heavy. And being so far away during his entire ordeal, unable to offer more than moral support to him and his girlfriend, has been very hard, especially for Amy. Working with the handyman yesterday brought back bittersweet memories of him. This deserves more space here than I can give it. The space it occupies in my heart is immeasurable.

Thanks for everything, Vince. RIP.

Those are things that are rising to the top of the list. What don’t I have time for? Figuring out why our income tax bill is more than 10,000€. Yep. Don’t have time for that now. Too much else going on. Can’t begin to fathom what is happening there. Maybe it’s accurate. Maybe it’s not. When I sent a message to the accounting firm who filed our return for us asking if they could help me understand why the bill was so high, this was the response:

Hello Mr. Scott,

Regarding your income abroad, since you have the NHR status, 10% will be applied to the value of your pension incomes, deducting the amount of tax already paid on the US.

Please check the information we shared in attachment to clarified some doubts you might have.

I haven’t a clue what that means. We don’t have pension income. So is that a culture gap or a genuine mischaracterization of our income stream? And does it even matter which it is? (Would we know more if we spoke fluent Portuguese? Hard to say; but it feels like yes.) The brochure they attached requires more thought than I have time for now (at least it’s in English, though). At first glance it’s hard to follow but suggests perhaps registering for the NHR wasn’t the right move for us. Too late to undo that now. Do we need to hire an accountant to fix our accountant? That’s a battle for next week.

What else do I not have time to think about? I’m getting baptized on Sunday. Yeah. No big deal. Just surrendering my life to Jesus. Happens all the time.

And we’ve got really nice people reaching out to us because they just found our blog thanks to a recent mention from Nancy Whiteman.⁴ Too much to think about right now.

People ask, “What do you do all day? You’re retired.” Yes. I am. What do I do all day? Depends on the day. Have we spent half the night before in the emergency room? I might sleep some. Do we have people arriving for dinner tomorrow? I’m probably walking to at least two grocery stores because any one store never has everything I need to buy (there are no fewer than five within walking distance, only two of which are particularly close to each other). Then reassembling everything that got taken apart yesterday by hurricane handyman. And baking and cleaning as much as possible. Because who knows what will happen tomorrow.

Well, my 30 minutes is up and there’s more I could say but I must run. Cornbread needs baking; the kitchen, and all of its small appliances, needs cleaning. Plus, the dog is pooping liquid (again) so an eye must be kept on that situation.

Is this well-written? Not as much as I’d like it to be. Is it coherent? Not as much as I’d like it to be. Is it overwhelmed by the fetid aroma of white entitlement? Probably. Since, spoiler alert, I’m a privileged white guy (is there any other kind?); I write what I know. Which is mostly #firstworldproblems. Is some @$$hole going to take time out of his busy schedule to tell me any of these things? I hope not. My skin isn’t thick enough for it right now.

Hey, tell you what folks. This week and this week only, we’re running a double your money back guarantee. Don’t like our content? Let us know.

I’ll put it at the top of my to-do list.

That’s all for now.

Love from Lisbon,

Scott

1. Who? Don’t know. She wore scrubs.

2. Who? Don’t know. She wore scrubs.

3. This is a hardware store, not a ‘70s porn star.

4. Thank you, Nancy, for your continued support. And sorry to those we’ve had to back-burner.