In a bizarre twist, my local MP was campaigning outside the train station this morning and I talked to her about getting my passport back. I'm not expecting much because she was talking about intervening in life and death situations over the course of weeks, and I was talking about flying my kite on the beach next week. Still, she said she would at least get a status.
In another stroke of bad luck, she stops being MP next week! She won't have any strings to pull.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh!