Well...having had enough of the whole damn waiting thing, I decided to call the lawyer when I got to work and let my displeasure be known. In the midst of my calm tirade, i hear the secretary walk in. It's the INS agent on the other line, but she just leaves a message so as not to bother him. The message is: Don;t worry. Everything's good ot go. It;s all set. Which would mean that I am ok and my app is going through and she has what she needs. HOWEVER, I am exercising some serious precaution and not gettin THAT ecstatic and celebratory until I have it in my mind. Now, I am hugely relieved and glad that she called back and everything is ok, but after this whole soured thing, I would rather be grounded and wait to see the result with my own eyes before I go buck wild. So for now... I have my green card and am waiting for it to materially appear. This is a good thing, right?
On another note....sometimes I feel like I am back in high school. Was talking to friend and I accidentally let slip some information that I assumed he knew. Naturally, as anyone would he prompted me for an explanation and tried to pump me for the info. Feeling stupid enough I felt it would be inappropriate (even if I came across the info deviously and accidentally). I have such a HUGE problem with trust (in others and what I exude) and sometimes I feel like letting out any kind or amount of information makes me seem less trustworthy in people's eyes. I pride myself on my steel-trap mouth and the confidence people have in me (sometimes after a mere three hours). I do feel like shit for letting it slip and for not following through, but it;s so hard to determine sometimes when I can even say something. Granted, I should just follow my general rule of not even letting on that I know anything, but people know better (at least those that know me). They know I know things. Wow..amazing how something so small can make someone feel so stupid. Although, I do find it odd to be apologizing for it. What a quandry.
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on Tuesday, September 24, 2002 at 11:43 PM.
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