I am applying for a visa, so of course I am a wonderfully calm creature.

Everything is going smoothly so far. I have the stuff I need. My school didn’t botch sending it like last time. I have an appointment. I have papers.

I’ve done this before and all of the things that have gone wrong in the past aren’t going wrong. They’re fine. It’s on track.

Still I’m nervous.

As Elizabeth Gilbert once said any country can deny you entry or a visa at any point for any reason that makes them happy. There’s always a risk they’ll say no.

There’s a risk you will be fully and totally screwed. And it will be expensive.

It’s small but it’s there.

I don’t go in assuming it’s mine. Maybe I’d be happier if I did.

Instead I am dotting my Is and crossing my Ts. Telling my father some sort of document is needed. He gets annoyed and questions the strictness of the guidelines.

I’m sure it will be fine. To be on the safe side I will hand them a large mound of documents. Everything they could possibly ask for.


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