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.