I should be sleeping right now but after todays activities it’s hard to ‘settle down’ enough to let the tiredness of a 1:30am start take over. Perhaps I’ll go in search of a hot chocolate once I finish this update, although I must apologise in advance for the lack of brevity thanks to the exhaustion. Normal service will resume shortly.
After all the buildup, all the anxiety, suspense, the medical examination and preparation, I was finally able to greet the day that I had been waiting for. Finally, after 7 long months, today was the day of my US K Visa Interview and probably one of the most important days of my life.
Despite attempting to sleep last night, I found myself rolling around for several hours thanks to the anxiety I felt about the upcoming interview. It’s surprising just what the human mind can do to you when you’re worrying about something and, lets be honest here, it’s surprising just how evil it can be when it wants to use your minds eye as the worlds most prominent cinema screen to show you just how bad the worst case scenario is and exactly why it will happen to you.
Face it, your mind is the guy that no-one ever invites to parties because he always proves to you just why you never invited him in the first place.
Still, I did manage to get a few hours of shut eye before prising myself out of my bed and into the shower. Not the best start to what is one of the most important days of your life. Several cups of coffee and a final check of my documents later and my 1:30 wake up call had become 3am, and time to hit the road.
After a quick detour for some rudimentary breakfast (McDonalds sadly does not start serving until 5 am) I was back on the road, hurrying along the M4 to Heathrow to catch a tube into London. With every mile covered I could have sworn my heart rate increased by a beat. I felt myself getting more tense as I hurriedly went through my bag to make sure my interview documents were there, my minds eye once more playing host to the motion picture of paranoia that my brain had created for me.
By 6:30, the car was parked, and I was aboard the Underground, racing toward my doom with little else to do than to stare at the documents, stopping only to blink with the occasional arm pinch to stop myself falling asleep. I must have drifted off at some stage. The journey from Heathrow to Green Park in central London takes about an hour. I could have sworn it had gone by in less than ten minutes.
As I stepped foot in Grosvenor Square, the nerves kicked in to overdrive and the sweat started to run along with that cold chill of pure fear when you realise you probably aren’t as well prepared for this as you thought.
Once more I checked my documents, and once more time jumped ahead. This time, I was in the queue, handing over my appointment letter, before being ushered into a security hut. Before I knew it, I was inside a waiting hall, staring at a monitor waiting for my number to be called.
Please go to window 14.
If I had stood up any quicker I would have fainted. My documents were collected from me and my fingerprints taken and I was ushered to sit back down and await my interview.
Please go to window 15.
And my interview began.
After all the buildup, the panic, the emotions and the utterly utterly pathetic amount of worrying, I was presented with just a few simple questions about my fiancée and then it was done.
I was approved.
Five minutes later and I was outside the embassy doors walking towards a park bench to finally get some air. Pathetic or not, I had ruined the shirt I was wearing, but I didn’t care.
After months of waiting, preparation, anxiety and uncertainty and one ruined shirt, my Visa was finally approved with the green light to start my new life in America.
In just over two weeks time, that new life will begin.