I am 30 years old. I have a no-nonsense Master’s degree in economic development and five years of full-time, well-compensated work experience in my field. I have excellent transferable skills—reading, writing, arithmetic—and sparkling references. But I have spent the last six months in a strange country, scratching and clawing for something to do while eagerly awaiting a deus ex machina to vanquish my unemployment roadblock: getting legal permission to work.
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