So I haven’t forgotten about that decision, that move to Switzerland or stay right where I am thing. It’s a hard one, a true win-win situation if ever there was one. Certainly all your feedback was very helpful. I must say I was surprised that so many of you were in favour of it. I was expecting a bunch of “don’t you dare” and “are you mental” sort of comments. But I’m on to you. I imagine the possibility of endless additions to the humiliation chronicles is what leads you to encourage me toward this madness.

The other day, iScott (technical blog wizard and expert in getting people unstuck – mentally, that is) gave me a psychological test he developed designed to uncover the unconscious processes that influence decision making. It was really enlightening and interesting and confirmed what I probably already knew. Viva Vevey. Let the fumbling and bumbling begin, and let it begin tout de suite.

I’m heading back to Vevey on Monday to have another look around. First stop is the Office de la Population to discover the drama this move will involve. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of immigrating to a foreign country (especially without a job), let me offer you this tidbit from my youth, “What you wants and what you gets are two entirely different things.” Just because I decide to live in a beautiful European country does not mean that I actually will.

Certainly my EU passport makes life a lot easier, but we still have to prove worthy of Switzerland. We will have to cut down an entire forest to make this application. We will have to deal with all sorts of tape as red as the Swiss flag. Things like I can’t get a lease for an apartment unless I have a residency permit and I can’t get a residency permit unless I have a lease for an apartment. Welcome to a new level of bureaucrazy. Lord, give me strength. Or should I say, “Lord, give Neil the strength to tackle all this while I cheer from the sidelines.”

Not that I won’t be busy. I have a meeting on Tuesday to discuss possible work avenues, hopefully stripper and taffy puller are not on the list. Who the hell knows what I’ll get myself into. But that’s the fun of it now, isn’t it? At any rate, the plan is to make a plan to move there, toss it up in the air and see what it looks like when it lands.

I may not be here regularly next week as I’ll be too busy filling out forms and pulling out hair. I’ll try to post when I can and start recording this next adventure if for nothing other than to remind myself that I was indeed sane (to some degree) when it began. I offer no guarantee of sanity when it’s finished. So, I lost my mind, went to look for it in France, found it and now I appear to have lost it again. Slippery little sucker.

 

 

 

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