Shifting sands - that's what it must feel like to be a stateless refugee, you know who you are but no-one will believe you. This is going somewhere - honest.

Yesterday, just after I posted, I got an e-mail from the admin side of the operation. I was assured by 2 different people when I signed on that my ITIN would be upgraded automatically, turns out they were talking out of a part which isn't conducive to speech.

Admin wanted a copy of my "papers" (I just warped back 10 years to East Berlin!!) I jumped on this as quick as I could but it still gave me a sleepless night last night. I couldn't deal with it yesterday because like every good Govt agency anywhere in the known world they start late and leave early.

I just got that uneasy feeling at the pit of my stomach - the one that says "don't get comfortable, you won't be here long,"

I reasoned that doing is better than thinking about what might happen. So this morning I found myself hacking (not literally) my way through the maze that is the automated answer service for the IRS (you know the sort of thing - if you are an idiot press 1 and so on) After half an hour I got to speak to a real person (who recited their ID number before their name - freaky!) and found I wasn't even in the right agency. Social Security were even less human. I had to download a form from their website.

We're going in early tomorrow before work to get this sorted before it causes any more hassles.

My student called this morning - had a long chat with her about lots of different things and arranged to go and see her next week.