I'm Wilma. Girl. No dragon tattoo. I love theatre, fashion, music that makes me orgasm and taking pictures. I have split myself between three places (London-Stockholm-Tallinn), but my current hub is Tallinn. Wherever my circus goes, there's always a party. If the party does end, I watch cat videos and blog about it all. Check out my yearly summaries below to get to know me a bit better. Header: Mandel Photography

If you have any questions: hemafruu@gmail.com.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

It's ok to be sad.

Where the hell should I start? Allt gick åt helvete. I am so depressed, it's not even funny anymore. Like phycological exhaustion wasn't enough, I managed to spill whole kettle of boiling water on my legs. Burn! Literally. Of course it happened the first day when Fred went to Estonia. All alone sobbing - not a pretty sight. I couldn't walk few days, yet I had to go to work after that. True Estonian as I am, I never take sick leave. Even if I am dead and in a coffin, I still want to attend the morning meeting. 

Talking about sick leave, I am not really sure if I can even take one? Oh, it's so difficult to explain, but hang in there. Theoretically EU citizens can relocate to any member states and start working straight away. Like in the UK I had to go to a silly interview to get my social insurance number. Super easy, since it is logical that the country wishes you to work and pay taxes straight away. Yet here in Sweden the system fucks you sideways. I wasn't given any number and was asked to show my emplyment contract before to get the number. Yet employers were really suspicious about hiring me without any social security number. I was so caught between two fires. I have the theoretical right, although practically... Fred got so angry that he even wrote to EU help-service and they replied that Sweden is the biggest discriminator against other EU citizens and they are well aware of the problem. Oh, well good to know, that I am not the only one fucked.

I was told one thing at Skatteverket (Tax agency) and contrasting things at different employers. I almost packed my things and went back to Estonia, yet Fred has a beautiful face and a warm hug. So I stayed and luckily found a nice person, who knew how to fuck the system and hired me. At least I got a job, although I won't get paid until Skatteverket gives me tax number. It may take 6 week, it may take forever. And it's not even the number that gives you benefits. It's just a number to pay taxes and I still won't get a health care I guess. ??? WHY YOU NO WANT TAXPAYERS?

Thank god that Fred's coming back tomorrow! Btw he won the best boyfriend award sixth year in a row (others are not even trying). At least the relationship is at it's finest and master degree possibilities are looked up. Dream big or go home. 

One day I will not limp anymore, one day I'll get paid and one day I'll get my social security back. Last but not least, I'm in the second round of getting my dream job. 99% possibility I won't get it, yet there's always this 1%...maybe I'll get lucky?

EVERYTHING IS TWICE AS HARD IN SWEDISH. Probably my colleges think I am retarded or something. And job interviews are amazing.

Here is a horse, because I haven't taken any pictures, because too depressed to do so:

See pole kolm peotäit mulda,
see pole siinne lõplik.
Need on katsumused, millest igaüks on õppind.


E said...

Mmh.. pea vastu!

Wilma Circus said...

Aww, aitäh heade soovide eest. Praegu läheb väga vaja.