i have been quiet, because there is a revolting air of terror hovering over me.
for the past 12 weeks i have been waiting for a new work permit, the obtaining of which, or alternatively, the un-obtaining of which, determines whether i will stay permanently in canada and play with yarn for a living until, supposedly many happy years later, i die peacefully in my sleep – or move back home and come up with some kind of a plan B.
it’s too much to bear.
my mind is going. i can feel it. i can feel it.