Have mercy, lawmakers!

Commas, people! How hard is it to put in a few commas to properly separate parts of a sentence?

And also, here's a hint: it's one thing if your humble frazzled translator is having trouble reading the law. It's something else entirely if a native Greek speaker is having trouble figuring out what you're talking about.

Also also: I've been spending the last month translating issues regarding regulated securities markets. Why am I suddenly eyeball-deep in special rules regarding debts carried by sports franchises?

(Yes, I've heard of pork-barrel legislation. Doesn't mean I've got to like it.)

Recap

Got job. Committed to job. Found apartment. Committed to apartment. Carried most of what I'd term my "creature comforts" to that apartment in Athens, paying overweight charges along the way.

And, oh yeah, every three months I've got to leave it all behind because of the immigration rules, and let everything gather dust for three months.

At the moment, the likeliest procedure for being able to go back for any length of time involves finding a job posting at the consulate, one which has been tailored to my skills, and answering it with an application, which will then be sent back to Athens. Following that, a contract will be sent to me, along with permission to get a work-related entry visa.

I've been waiting for that for a solid year now. Yesterday, I went to the consulate to find the job posting so I could answer it. The guy at the consulate hadn't seen any such thing. (Which is better than the last person I spoke with, whose response was "why would they send that thing to us?")

The latest from Athens is to be patient; these things take time. Except that I can see the time passing while I try to be patient. I see the days getting shorter. I see the gray hairs encroaching, at my temples when I put on my hat, in my beard when I shave in the morning.

Patience is a virtue. But there's only so many days in a lifespan.