So, I suppose that’s enough suspense now. (I didn’t do it on purpose though, I had lurgy yesterday and wasn’t up to writing.) I am the proud owner of an emergency passport! Whoo!! I can officially go on holiday, and start work, and do all manner of existential things 🙂
I am on my way to the embassy. My boyfriend booked – and his mum paid for – a weeks holiday in Lanzarote. It’s something like an Easter present, and something like a ‘You-must-have-a-break-before-you-have-a-breakdown’ mission. Having spent the last year in an unending battle with exams, quitting work, moving house, renovating, decorating, unpacking and furniture […]
I phoned the passport office in the UK and they apparently don’t have the facilities to write an email to say that they’ve got my passport and are working on the new one. They are also unable to tell me how long it will take, the new system’s having a paddy so the 4 weeks […]
I’m waiting to talk to the 3rd person about not existing. He’s in a meeting. Ho-hum. I am not really any further than I was before. This is more of a field trip than an investigation. However, I do know that people are more officious the further down the food chain they are.
I apparently don’t exist. At least not enough to work or get paid. My passport ran out in January and by the time I’d figured out what to send to whom, and got the right sort of photos taken, and filled in all the forms, and sent it off, it was the 14th of April. […]