When borders reopened, everyone began travelling again, in full force. There would always be another variant. Best to see the world while you could. Around this time, I developed insomnia and began driving by myself at night. The first night, I drove to a twenty-four-hour supermarket. I stood in front of the frozen-food section, occasionally opening a freezer door to grab something, then changing my mind.
It was not that, in year three, I couldn't travel, but to do so was ill-advised. My husband was an American citizen, and we lived in New Jersey. Renewing my work visa yet again seemed like a complete waste of everyone's time, so we'd hired a lawyer for my green-card process and, in one of the six-minute phone slots we had with her, she told me to stay put during the period between the application submission and the interview. I could travel within the U.S., but leaving the country was tricky. My husband asked how long we would have to stay put. The lawyer said that the average case took at least eleven months now, since the prior Administration had stalled many green cards, since the prior Administration had wished to limit immigration from certain countries. I reminded the lawyer that I was Canadian, and she said that to leave the country and try to come back was to risk being held up at customs for not having a clear residency status in either Canada or the U.S. Once we submit these forms, she said, your status will be in flux.
The lawyer also emphasized that I absolutely could not quit my job during the application process. The company I worked for had already submitted proof of employment. If I quit, the company would rescind the form and my application would be far less strong.
Bu hikaye The New Yorker dergisinin June 26, 2023 sayısından alınmıştır.
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Bu hikaye The New Yorker dergisinin June 26, 2023 sayısından alınmıştır.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Giriş Yap
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