Well here I am, back in the UK, sipping on 5 o’clock tea getting ready to fill in anyone reading this blog about what's going on.
This time around I’m going to get a three-month business visa and when I get back I’ll get my documents together, some of which I made on Photoshop (diploma, cough...) to apply for a work visa. Of course, by apply I mean meet up with my favourite ex KGB pensioner Pavel and fork over some serious fear dollars.
I got to thinking: is it really worth jumping through the bullshit hoop again? No is actually the answer to this and I actually decided to wash my hands with Russia, but an offer I received changed my mind. Initially I was looking for a spot on the Russian female volleyball team as official oil boy but that didn’t work out so instead I’ll be acting as a representative for an online store looking to attract some English or American companies to flog their shit in Russia, to put it eloquently.
The money is low, commission is good, but the main features for me are freedom (no office and monkey suit) plus stable income and a means to do less teaching. If business develops well then I’ll be provided with an official work visa which would be a first for me.
So for a while, I’m not going anywhere and my blog will live on, but what if I had of come back? Here I noticed something interesting. Now I feel like I’m, in essence, stuck between a rock and a hard place in that there aren’t exactly shit heaps of opportunities for me in England and in Russia I’m a pseudo illegal immigrant who spends way too much time in his underpants writing furious blog posts and hammering small children on the PSN network.
I’ve basically become like a character in one of those prison films where they are eventually freed, only to find that they can’t cope with life on the outside and either reoffend to get back in for a slice of that hot prison loving or straight up top themselves.
I'm basically Brooks from Shawshank redemption
So i guess that’s the upshot. I’m going to give ole Russia another shot and see what happens. I don’t plan on teaching English in any shape or form as a career as it’s most definitely not my shot of vodka but it would be good if something worked out. I imagine if I did end up back in the UK I would end up in some dead-end job in some office where I would inevitably be ‘that guy’ who lives in the past, retelling travel stories everyday to people who couldn’t give one solitary shit about how ‘once upon I time I lived in Russia’.
Anyhow, to go out on a positive note and not a soul-crushing one, here is a picture of a cute animal in a hat.