Today I quested my way back to the migration office in Sofia to tackle "step 2" of my permanent residency card. The goal was to return triumphant, and hopefully with even a fraction of the gratification I felt earlier this month when I successfully completed the first step for my card.
After knocking on the window, the woman was immediately like, "Filkins?" Not so sure how I feel about being so quickly recognized at the police station in a city where I don't even live (maybe thats better than being known where I DO live? Hmmm), but I chuckled to myself at the reality of the situation.
**Briefly to catch anyone who doesn't know every detail of "Katie's series of unfortunate events" early last winter: I started the process for my first residency card about a year ago. I went into Sofia for the first two steps, then only a week or so before my actual card was ready, my passport was stolen out of my purse just after reporting another... incident... Your residency card is directly linked to your passport, so they wouldn't give me the card until they processed a new one for the new passport. So we started the process over. I applied for a new passport and while waiting for it, I decided it would be fun to go ahead and break my leg and make everyone's lives - namely my own - miserable. Then this summer, when I decided to return, I decided to frustrate both the US and Bulgarian governments with this little story of mine, but here I am. So yes, I'm pretty much famous all the world over.**
So, under an hour later (victory is mine!) I left the police station with a promise that my card would be ready for pick up in about a month.
History would indicate that if I can make it through this next month bez (without) incident, I should be in the clear. AND NO SKIING!!
Promise. :)
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