It was the carpenter, with a paintbrush, in our one-and-only room.

The whole "strangers walking into our apartment unannounced" was cute at first, but I'm officially over it.

Ross went to school this morning, and I went to the Canadian Embassy. When I came home, the street door to our building was propped open. Both the chimney-cleaners and the contractors who are renovating the apartment next door have been doing this, since they don't have keys. I don't really like it since they usually forget to close the door after them at the end of the day. We store our bicycles just inside the of door, and they could be stolen. They're not worth much, but I'd prefer not to have to go through the effort of getting them again.

When I came upstairs, the door to our apartment was also open – not just unlocked, but open – and no one was in sight. Instantly I had a flashback to Ross & I leaving the house together at the same time today, he locked the door, and double checked that I had my keys. . . there was no way we left the door open. The house smelled like paint, and I noticed the door was freshly painted, so I didn't think it was an intruder. But even still, I did a quick survey of our belongings. (We're fine.)

I went to the apartment next door, where one of the renovators was sanding. His English is on par with my Dutch, so our conversation didn't get very far. He called his boss, who I've spoken to a few times, and he assured me that no one from his company has keys to our apartment.

I then called the company we are renting through to find out who had been here, and why they left our apartment open to the general public. She assured me this is not the way they normally do business, and that before someone comes over, we must be notified (in my head I was thinking, yeah, right.) Immediately following this conversation, the mystery intruder walked in. . . it was the carpenter from our second day. He wiped some paint off the floor, and motioned that both sides of the door were wet, and left. He doesn't speak English, so I didn't bother saying anything to him. I just hope he stops inviting himself into our apartment.

In fact, I hope that all the random strangers stop walking in.

On a brighter note, I have some job prospects lined up.

On the down side, I learned that the woman at the Aliens Police did in fact fill out my paperwork incorrectly, and I'm not supposed to need a working permit; the Working Holiday Program is the permit. The actions to get this reversed may be very lengthy, and overly complicated, I am certain.

On the bright side, the woman at the Canadian Embassy gave me her card, and told me that if for some reason, it's going to take longer than 3 months, to contact her, and she'll be on my side. Cross your fingers I don't have to use her number.