Canuck!
January 30, 2003
Okay. I know I previously pounded away at my keyboard, declaring that the chances of me writing an online journal again were as unlikely as Greg Evans becoming a recognised deity of love in some obscure sect.
But this is a blog, so technically my precarious reputation remains intact.
So, hi! Here I am again. Hopefully keeping a blog will be much easier than keeping a journal. Submitting myself to the world of Australian bloggery ensures there’s at least one more person linking to Sydney Morning Herald articles.
What’s been happening? Well, surprise, surprise, I’ve been arsed over by my current employer. This brings my total dot com redundancies to a jackpot of four – only one more and I’m eligible for a free Burger King meal!
Well, I do emblish the truth somewhat. Our department’s being moved to Canada, rather than imploding altogether. So the choice is there of either moving to Canada, or hanging around wringing my fists for a couple of weeks, with a nice redundancy package glimmering in the distance.
This is where I began to complicate things for myself. I’d noticed a job for another excellent job at an excellent dot-com company and decided to apply. Yeah. Glutton for punishment. This happened in late December.
After enduring what was possibly the most complicated and lengthy application process since pornography studios become commercialised and implemented a questionable “casting’ process; I’m still waiting to hear how I went. As I type this post, I’ve been waiting to hear if I’ve got the job or not for 40 days straight.
Understandably, my current place of employ is a little nervy to determine my plans for the future. Do Adam and I want to move to Canada? Sure. But only if I don’t get this other job. This is usually when things get snappy and I beleaguredly type another email to my new potential employers, to see if they’ve made a decision on the position or not.
If I DON’T get the job, and Adam and I end up moving to Canada (he’s already planning to leave his current job), we won’t have much notice. It’ll only be a month between us finding out and actually moving. I’m beginning to suspect that I may also want to move to Canada for all the wrong reasons.
See, I love the word “Canuck”. Whenever Adam and I spot one of our fellow Canadians on TV (yes, we’ve temporarily switched nationalities), we bellow “CANUCK! CANUCK! CANUCK! CANUCK!”
I’ve also begun conconcting visions of how life in Canada would unfold. In my mind, every day would begun with me skipping merrily down a snow-fucked street (I dunno – when you live in a country without snow, you’re not too sure how to describe it). As I pass my fellow Canucks down the road, I’d yell “Canuck!” at them as a form of greeting.
Life in Canada. No, really.A tip of the hat from aboard their pet moose, and they’d call “Canuuuuck!” back over the street at me.
Yeah. I really have convinced myself that “Canuck” is a one-word-suits-all form of greeting and goodbye in Canada. Are you beginning to understand how quickly I’d collapse if we moved over there? The Aussie knobhead running around in shorts and t-shirt in zero degrees weather, shouting ‘Canuck, Canuck’ in the middle of the street?
So that’s the work/Canada problem. Once I’ve heard back from this company about the job, Adam and I will actually know what’s happening wtih our lives.
Then, it was last Thursday that our real estate rang us up.
“Jeb!” cried our real estate fella. “You know that screw that both your current employer and your potential one have been gently inserting up your anus for the last few weeks?”
“I’m well familiar,” I noted.
“Well, LET ME RAM IT DIRECTLY INTO YOUR PROSTATE!” he cried with glee. “The owners of your apartment want to move in, which means you’ve got to get out in a couple of weeks time.”
“Hurrah!” I jubilantly exclaimed. “Shall I trot on over to your offices and bend my naked bot-bot over your Gucci-clad knee right now?”
So this adds another dimension to the problem. If we move to Canada, then we have to find a place to live for a month or two here in Sydney. Most leases are six months minimum. Plus, until we’ve heard back from the job I applied for, we can’t even start looking for a new place, because we don’t even know where we’re living.
This was when I decided it was PERFECT TIMING TO RESUME MY WEBSITE FOR A DAILY WHINGE SESSION AT THE INTERNET BROWSING PUBLIC IN GENERAL!
Well, I strongly suspect that there aren’t many people still around looking at this here website, but I’ll keep posting for now.
If you’re a Canuck and you’re reading this, I love you. Although I doubt there are many people left reading this at all ;)
