10.Years.Gone

Not with a bang, but with a phone call.

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Walking home yesterday, in a roundabout way, I got a phone call. Surprised to receive a call at all, I answered it without taking my AirPods out. (It annoys me when people speak on the phone in public without using the phone as a phone.) It was my employer asking about my divorce.

Turns out, the work permit I have is tied, not to the visa, but to the marriage – something the lawyers didn't think to mention, and something I surely never considered.

And that was it: my schedule was shut down, and my contract was terminated.

10 years and six weeks and it ends on the street, over the phone.

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As I'm in the process of changing my visa, I should be able to reapply. Hopefully, not much time will have passed in the meanwhile; if rehired, I should be able to slot right back in. I'm good at the job and my performance, especially in recent years, bears that out. But there are no guarantees and who knows what will happen.
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In the meanwhile, I have a lot of time to study, a lot of time to watch basketball, and a lot of time to worry.