The time-line for receiving my Visa is 6 months, so basically, I’ve been in limbo for over 3 & have another few months to go. To keep it simple, I’m waiting on an official letter arriving telling me we’re good to go & now’s the time to arrange a date for my medical & my interview at the Embassy.

Now, operative word being official.

My mum & step-dad have been on holiday the past two weeks – yeah, they pissed off again. And the next door neighbor was house sitting. My mother had asked her to phone me if anything official looking arrived in the mail addressed to me because it would be my NOA2 (Notice of Action 2).

Friday comes & the phone goes. “Mum Home” comes up. It took me a second to realize why an empty house was calling me, but I soon picked up to hear my neighbor say “Your Visa thingy is here, it’s arrived this morning“.

First off, it’s not my “Visa thingy”, it’s not even close. I still have a fucking interview to go through, my god. However, I’m used to people either a) not paying any attention or b) thinking they know everything & more.

So I got up, dressed & took the two buses & nearly two hour trip to the other end of town. I burst in the front door & ran to the pile of mail.. my whole life, my future hanging in the balance. Everything relying on this letter & it’s contents.

Flicking through the bundle of bills & junk mail once, twice, three times.. Where is it? Where is it?

And I finally twigged…

The plain, white window envelope on top of the pile? The one that, even before turning it over & seeing “Bank of Scotland”, it’s painfully, obviously a bank statement? Yeah. That so official looking letter is a fucking bank statement!

Stupid fucking bitch.

And my mum phones me today to ask if my “Visa thing” came  in the mail, even though I had scored out the neighbors happy “it arrived this AM“ on a note & written “Bank statement” over it..

Her reply was “Well, she wouldn’t really know”.

Ex-fucking-actly. And that would be why she called me to tell me my bank statement had arrived & that all my wishes had come true & I could finally get on with my life. Right?

It’s so laughable it’s barely real. And not even so much as a “Shit, I’m so sorry I’m so fucking stupid“.

Never mind the money, time & effort it took me to get out there, but the emotional aspect even more so!

So here I am, still waiting at the cross roads with all my belongings in one bag & my heart on my sleeve. Waiting. And watching the months go by, knowing that I can’t make them up on the back end because we’re all going to die someday. Yeah, many thanks. I am after all, just a name on an application form.