Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Third Ring

I'm quickly coming to understand how limbo could be considered one of the rings of hell, how it could be considered a punishment almost worse than hell itself. I seem to remember that, depending on the period in history, limbo - or rather, pergatory - has been used as incentive to get yourself to heaven. Right now, I'd consider hell a fair alternative as well. At least you'd know where you were, and where you were going to be for the time to come. You could prepare yourself. In limbo, there is no planning. Things can go either way. The torture is exquisite. Just ask anyone waiting for a verdict on a visa application. Waiting for 9 weeks, with the last 4 of the process being told to expect a verdict within another week.

Yes, that's right...it's now 9 weeks since I heard from my immigration representative that my visa application hd been submitted. That was a little bit of a surprise to me, I must admit, since as far as I was concerned it had all been completed about a week before when they had all the information they needed and £750 of my hard earned into their hot little bank account. Turns out I was a little mistaken. Seems I was a little mistaken also when I assumed that I would hear within 8 weeks, even allowing for a bit of an error in the estimated 6 week prediction. See, right now, the geniuses at Borders and Immigration seem to be getting through a days worth of applications every week. Makes you wonder; are they terminally slow, or are there that many applications? In the latter case, if there are that many, how many are being approved? And how closely are they studying them? Because I want a verdict, and I want it three weeks ago.

Meanwhile, I'm here in limbo, almost a stateless citizen. I'm in Australia once more, yes. I'm back living with my parents and working on a laptop doing exactly the same job I was doing in London. In many ways, it's almost like I never left here. But I can't make any plans for the future. I don't know where I will be. I don't even know if I'll be able to make use of the return leg of my plane ticket, or if I'll need to either cancel it or change the date. I don't know anything. If I get a yes, I'll have to dash up to Canberra at some point to finalise details. But I don't know when that will be. My mother wants to take some time off work while I'm here to catch up properly. She's asking me which week is best for me. I have no answer for her, because I don't know when things are happening, if they are at all. It's no way to live a life. Actually, it's less like living than like being in that film, Groundhog Day. I live the same day over and over again with minor variations. And always the response from my immigration agent is the same: You should have a verdict within a week. I won't be betting on it just yet though.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Waiting for divine inspiration

It's always amazed me the lengths I will go to when I want to avoid something. And this is me talking about myself. Right now, I'm avoiding work - nothing unusual there, really. I tend to do it mostly when it can't be avoided and right now, it's easily avoided, as long as I make the deadlines. They're looming ever larger on the horizon though. It's just I'm struggling to get myself motivated. But strangely enough, I find that I'm motivated enough when it comes to other projects. Like designing and making a dress to wear to a formal dinner next weekend. Like writing a screen play (I have around 45 minutes of actual performance written, for anyone who's interested. It's fascinating. Or at least it is while I've got something else I should be doing). Like looking into learning computer rendering so I can make the movie of my screenplay without ever having to sell it. Finding software to get the screenplay in the correct format should I decide to sell it afterall. Finding an agent to send it to once it's in the correct format.

It seems that ever time I sit down at the work computer, a stroke of brilliance comes along to do with something else, and I find myself obliged to at least write it down, before it disappears. Then I need to develop the idea a little along certain lines. I need to make it clear to myself for future reference that Hannah and Luke argue about Luke leaving school. I need to create the setting for Becca to be a complete bitch to Luke. I need to explain why the Watcher doesn't have a name, as far as Josie knows. I need to establish Rueban as the old man who will mould the hero. I need to create the overwhelming sense of terror at the thought that the government can make anybody disappear for no apparent reason, that they have agents everywhere you go, and that nobody will lift a finger to help you.

And before I know it, 5 hours have passed, even though I sat down to make a note for 15 minutes or so, just while I had lunch, or dinner. I was going to make up the time later, tomorrow, on the weekend, but it never seems to get caught up. Why? When I'm in the process of locking myself into this work for longer, when I've been reasonably content in my job, by my usual standards, why can I not focus? Is it because, for the moment at least, I'm working amidst all the distractions of home? It's infuriating, really, that I have neither enough hours in the day, nor enough attention span, to get through both sets of tasks the fun stuff as well as the serious-pay-the-bills stuff. Because I know that the instant anything was to happen that made the fun, distracting stuff more like actual work, I'd find myself distracted from that too. Why is it that, as much as I love something, as soon as it becomes work, it becomes a drag?

And in even bigger questions relating to my state of mental health at the moment, is there any cure for coca cola addiction? Please forward all suggestions before my work-life balance is skewed along the lines of I'll-do-anything-as-long-as-there's-a-coke-machine-handy.