That title here was for all the googlers who strangely land here looking for some sort of deviance.
As if.
Talking about titles, the previous one was a premonition of sorts, wasn't it. Almost two months. Wow. Which cunningly brings me to the current title, as it's all the apology you'll be getting, but believe me when I say it's heartfelt (seriously, though, thank you all for worrying. And I have the names of those who didn't).
Here's the drill: I've been at my parents' for the past six weeks. I'll let that settle a while. Six weeks. And no, it hasn't been quite so bad as it sounds.
The wait for the visa, now that's another kettle of fish... So after having it planned and organised so everything would go smoothly, it appears I'll be landing and going straight to work. Which, seriously, is hardly an exaggeration at all.
That is if I'm not rejected by the consulate, of course.
White rabbit white rabbit to all, albeit slightly late, but surely the moral of the story today is better late than never. Right?
