Today when the mail came, and I jumped up (1% with excitement to go see what came in the mail 99% with the terror that strikes every single time the mail comes swishing through the mail slot and plops on the floor and makes me think someone just walked boldly into the apartment to steal me.) I noticed that I had mail! Me! With my name on it! And look, it was from the Migration Office!
My heart pounded as I ripped it open, discarding the other mail–something about insurance, and some sort of newspapery thing–only to see that it was merely a notice that they received my application for a residence card two weeks ago when–surprise–I had turned it in. Oh.
Maybe next time.