Drama, drama, drama...
It's official.
We are leaving Bosnia as of January 1st, 2007.
Our new port of call will be the United Kingdom, possibly Cambridge, possibly London.
Of course, this is a good thing, she says swooning and gasping for air. I am employable in the UK. My stupidly overpriced Ivy League social work degree can work for me. Yeah, beeyatch...And I'll get paid in pounds. Sweet deal that.
But. But. Oh my, I will miss Sarajevo.
You, dear, stupid, exasperating country...If only you threw me a bone and gave me a job,we wouldn't be leaving you. As it is. I can't stay here waiting for the next poorly paid English editing job, watching MTV, and eating kokos bombice. Mmm. Kokos bombice...
I know this also makes me hopelessly exasperating, as I have dished a fair amount of Bosnian dirt. But it's my home! After a year of adjustment, it finally feels like home. I know which taxi stands to use, I have friends, I have a reliable vegetable merchant, I know where I can feed my addiction to blackmarket rip-offs and kokos bombice...
What a restless and contrary pain in the ass I am. This is, after all, what I wanted. A chance to be useful. Gainfully employed. And what do I do? Whine, whine, whine...
Eh. It is one of the things I do best. Gotta keep my skills sharp.
Anyway. The way I figure it, I should be good for one or two meltdowns a week until we actually leave Bosnia. And then, there will be the adjustment meltdowns when we actually move to the UK.
So. Stay tuned and let the panic attacks commence!
And pass me the Barpy.
We are leaving Bosnia as of January 1st, 2007.
Our new port of call will be the United Kingdom, possibly Cambridge, possibly London.
Of course, this is a good thing, she says swooning and gasping for air. I am employable in the UK. My stupidly overpriced Ivy League social work degree can work for me. Yeah, beeyatch...And I'll get paid in pounds. Sweet deal that.
But. But. Oh my, I will miss Sarajevo.
You, dear, stupid, exasperating country...If only you threw me a bone and gave me a job,we wouldn't be leaving you. As it is. I can't stay here waiting for the next poorly paid English editing job, watching MTV, and eating kokos bombice. Mmm. Kokos bombice...
I know this also makes me hopelessly exasperating, as I have dished a fair amount of Bosnian dirt. But it's my home! After a year of adjustment, it finally feels like home. I know which taxi stands to use, I have friends, I have a reliable vegetable merchant, I know where I can feed my addiction to blackmarket rip-offs and kokos bombice...
What a restless and contrary pain in the ass I am. This is, after all, what I wanted. A chance to be useful. Gainfully employed. And what do I do? Whine, whine, whine...
Eh. It is one of the things I do best. Gotta keep my skills sharp.
Anyway. The way I figure it, I should be good for one or two meltdowns a week until we actually leave Bosnia. And then, there will be the adjustment meltdowns when we actually move to the UK.
So. Stay tuned and let the panic attacks commence!
And pass me the Barpy.
posted by J. at
2:37 AM
2 Comments:
now i hate you. I was gonna visit you in Bosnia!
By the way, will you be able to get a work permit in the UK? One of the reasons we didn't go there was that spouses are not eligible for work permits.
The other being a very harsh, long, miserable quarantine for our sweet little kids.
well, now you can visit me in the uk!
work permit: i'm a social worker, licensed, master's level, signed, sealed, and delivered. the uk has a shortage, so i can get a work permit through their highly skilled worker program. it's done something for me, that freakin' expensive degree.
yes, the quarantine is horrible. stupid rabid country. the cats are in the u.s. w/ my parents and the dog will go to his :(
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