There comes a point in one's life..

I imagine everyone has had one morning where you wake up, eyes bloodshot and crusted half-closed, body stiff from passing out onto the floor some hours previous, cheek red and lined from being pressed into the carpet, which is wet with your own drool, stomach managing somehow to clench and heave as it turns over in its toxic juices, and you struggle to sit up and, hiding your tender, tender eyes from the glare of that hideous morning sun, take a look at the detritus that surrounds you and think, Where the FUCK is that stamped biometrics paperwork?

That's right, I am mid-Visa application. Check back with me in a week, and if I haven't pulled my own brain out through my nostrils, I plan to explain how it is that I came to be in this sorry state.