02 June 2006

Hanging By a Thread

I have been forced to listen to Outkast to improve my gloomy mood. Due to this craving of mood turning, my partner has been forced to flee the apartment in horror. Well, not really. He is simply picky about his choice of music and Outkast isn't on his list of favourites. I guess he just doesn't have the strength to suck it up and be surrounded by Hey Ya! and other such tunes. Ah well, it's a nice day and he has chosen to play the geetar outside.

I found out yesterday afternoon that I have officially been declined for employment insurance benefits. This has severely dampened my mood. I was expecting it so I shouldn't take it so hard. It was my ticket home, however. It was my last hope - well, before Mastercard and Visa. This was my way home. And I have been declined. I sigh a big heavy sigh today.

I'm sad and discouraged.

Looking for work is never fun. Actually, I find it a belittling experience. It is one full of bullshit and lies, false enthusiasm and forced smiles. Reading over my CV is like reading over a pathetic chunk of my history. It feels like it only exists to show me how lame my life choices have been. I'm just around the corner to 30 and my years have been whittled away with pointless retail and catty salon jobs. Other than learning how to fold a mean towel or sweater and sucking up to other people, what have I learned or been challenged by? I want to be able to work in an environment that I somewhat thrive in. I want to wake up and be like, "Fuck yeaaaah! I love my job!". Since moving here, it's been far from it.

Not like I even liked my jobs back home either. Even though I complained about working at the music store, at least I got myself a sweet discount and my customers were darlings. I felt appreciated by them. I gave them excellent customer service and they gave me the equal respect, generally speaking. Sadly, I even enjoyed flirting with old man customers just to make a sale. It was a fun job on the most part.

And here I am.

I live in Quebec. I am a stupidly slow learner who gets easily frustrated and enjoys to give up. Therefore, I am still unilingual. I am English and it means nothing here. It is my own damn fault for not learning the language. I have been two years and though people are better understood, I am still living in a world where I can't make complete sense of everyone around me. Combine that with the fact that I don't even have a set of my own friends and what you get is a very lonely female.

My job choices are limited here, being English only. I can be a telemarketer. I can do market research, which I was doing until I got laid off. I can do slutty webcammery. And I'm sure I could probably work at some sort of warehouse/sweatshop. And that's it, it seems. I'm sure there are others but they are never advertised and I don't even know where to look in the first place. Maybe it's all who you know and I don't know jack shit in this town.

I don't know about you but the prospect of being a telemarketer, telesurvey interviewer, or web cam "hostess" just doesn't appeal to me. How enthusiastic can I feel about that? Just thinking about those three jobs suck the life out of me. I know sometimes you have to make sacrifices and I know I probably haven't tried hard enough. I feel like I have failed. I feel like I will NEVER get ahead living in this city. It's just one struggle after another. I am not getting any further in regards to paying off my bills. I am stagnant. It feels like I will never get what I want and believe me, I don't want that much. I feel stuck.

It was so much easier back home, in a sense. Somedays, I just want to run home and curl up in my own bed and know everything will be okay. I want my old job and I want to feel that connection I had with so many people (friends, family, strangers) there. I want to have one more cleavage Wednesdays just to sell some crappy Linkin Park cd to frustrated business men. I just want the familiar and stable of HOME.

I refused to go home at Easter because I assumed I would have the time in summer, as I will be alone all summer anyhow. But no. I'm fucking stuck. I am fucking stuck in Stinktown this summer, working at some fucking stinkjob peddling phone book directories to American companies or, even worse, peddling myself to horny men (I'll never do that, don't worry) just to get by because I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ELSE in this city.

Needless to say, I'm hanging by a thread today.

And it's my grandmother's birthday today. I will call her later and put on a tremendously happy voice that will end up exhausting me. I love my grandmother, don't get me wrong. My family worries about me, however. I'm sure they know how I really feel though, but I gloss it over with false enthusiasm and positivity. They know it hasn't been easy for me but I hide it too damn well.
Talking to my grandmother will snap that thread. It's bad enough I am not there to celebrate her 86th birthday, but I have felt guilty for moving every single day when I know all they want is for me to be there for them.

Ah well.

I'm not this emotional and dramatic when I'm working and successfully distracted. When money is flowing into my bank account, I am calm and balanced. My worries are small, even if when have a "McJob".

All this growing up, and I'm still working jobs that sixteen year olds can probably do better than me. And worst of all - Outkast isn't doing the trick today. Hey, ya.


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