In preparation for the fact that I was going to have internet access this afternoon (since I have learnt that the Haagse Bibliotheek allows access, no Subway sarmies today), I decided to type up my post from home and upload it here. Of course, nothing is ever that simple. You see, our computer at home (which wasn't working at all in SA, but after a few months at sea magically turns on and is semi-functional) does not have internet. So I can type on it - very cathartic and all - but there's no one to read it. I need an audience. Anywho, so I saved my weekly rant on a flashstick and pottered off to have a chat with the friendly bibliothekares about internet access. It turns out that internet access means just that. You can use the internet and nothing else. There is no access to any form of external drive. I can understand the safety concerns (bloody third-world terrorists and all that), but I'm sure you can understand my frustrations... this means I have no means of signing up for a recruitment agency, even though I have my CV saved on the USB flashstick. I have no means of saving anything useful that I do find to my USB flashstick. And I have no access to my beautifully worded, meticulously editted, witty and insightful blogpost. So you get to read this crap. Sorry.
In other news, some how, with much confusion, I have gotten a short term work permit and a tax number. I am now legally able to work. It's just a pity I can't sign up for any online recruitment companies. I NEED INTERNET ACCESS. I feel like a junkie, although my addiction seems to get more intense with time, it doesn't ease. The weather is lovely, the sun is shining, it hasn't rained the whole week. The swans are a-swimming and the squirrels are out of hibernation. In short, living unemployed in The Hague at this time of year is divine. And all I can think about is being online. I get an hour of access to the internet and I soak it all up like a starving Ethiopian let loose in Harrods. I've got at least 10 Internet windows open - gmail, blogspots, yahoo, hotmail, facebook, news24, Dutch recruitment agencies, bbc news...
Anyway, so I've got a short-term work permit. I've figured out how to beat the system of red-tape and paperwork. If you manage to confuse the bureaucrats into a state of reciprocal incomprehension, chances are high that you will actually come out the other end with what you wanted in the first place. Either that, or you'll leave City Hall with a vasectomy. It could go either way. Right, my small-fortune worth of online access is almost up, I'm off to go piss off some ducks and swans in the forest.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Yay for the work permit! Great work!
Post a Comment