Moving again.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything. Partially because I have been in a cooking and baking frenzy, and mostly because I have been going out more by the end of 2017 with new friends I have met. Also, because I got addicted to Overwatch. (Shhh.)

Since then, my husband accepted a new job offer and we moved to Belgium!

STOP. Hold on. Yeah, that was me imagining an alternate reality. While the first part really did happen, the moving part is still ongoing. By the end of December, my husband flew to the US to start working, while I was dumped back to Manila. My US green card process was halted by our move from Korea rendering me unable to fly with him. Our household goods were shipped to Belgium. Our dog, the shithead, was left with our good friend in Korea who LOVES dogs. (You have to love dogs to love our very dog-like dog.) Our family was literally split and sent to 4 different countries.

Porkchop has been feeling abandoned.

I have been in Manila since January, and I am still here. My husband came to visit me for a month simply because he couldn’t resist not seeing this beautiful face every morning. (How complicated was that sentence? I’m sure a did a grammar boo-boo.)

Throughout the months, we have discovered how frustrating it was to deal with the Belgian government. It took 3 months to get his work permit approved. Compare that to the 1.5 months we were quoted for both the work permit AND the visa process; and it gets even worse. Since I currently do not have a US residency status, we don’t even know if the Belgian embassy in the US would process my visa. Can I even work there? I can’t believe I have spent 5 months of my life not knowing anything crucial. It’s like taking a very important final exam, then having to wait half a year for the results. Anyone will develop anxiety, that’s for sure.

Planning for anything has been a nightmare. Can you come to my wedding a few months from now? I don’t know. Should I enroll in a 3-month intensive cooking class? I don’t know if I’ll still be here. Zero commitments. It slowly killed my soul (and my social life). The planner in me just went kaboom.

Speaking of planning, I have been trying to plan out my non-existent career. “Trailing spouses,” as we are now called, have limited options for work. (What was wrong with “expat wife”?) If Belgium says I can’t work, what now? Even if I gave effort to improve my skills in photography, how in the world can I use the skills for money? The state of confusion I have been in has caused further anxiety.

In the end, I decided to start writing again. This activity is the only constant in my life.


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