So much for Canada being a country reliant on immigrants

Well, I'm glad I didn't blog this morning. It would have been prematurely upbeat.

I was actually quite positive for the first five or so hours of the day. Yesterday I managed to bleed the last of the air from my front brake to get it working again, had a fairly decent ride, and even got free strawberry and rhubarb pie from the next door neighbour.

Last night I slept for more than a couple of hours for the first time in ages. This morning I was out of the house and on the trails before 7am. I even deliberately rode headlong down a 30-foot flight of stairs without maiming myself.

Then back to the grind. Checked workopolis.com, IABC.com, eluta.com, Craig's List, Now Toronto, Monster.ca, Media Jobs Canada, and LinkedIn for potential jobs I had the necessary experience for, stood a snowball in hell's chance of getting shortlisted for, and knew I'd be able to do without feeling ashamed or emasculated - thus avoiding the risk of worsening my depression.

Nothing.

The afternoon saw the usual e-mail chains from my softball team about who was giving who a lift when and where from, plus the normal jokes and jibes. That's when it hit me.

When Nicole asked me for a divorce one of the many things that crossed my mind was that it would be the end of my Canadian life metaphorically. Many of my friends were really her friends. I'd lose any family I had here, many friends, networks, social engagements and other things. However, I am now fast approaching the end of my Canadian life in actuality.

If I can't get a job then I have no income. My credit card debt now outweighs the value of my RRSP and all my worldly belongings combined. If I have no income then I have to declare bankruptcy. I'm not sure what happens when one has to do that, but if no work is in sight then I don't think it will be option to continue to bum around in Toronto accumulating debt. Even sheltered housing in Toronto is $300+ per month.

Thanks to this chain of events that began, I suppose, with my persecution/quasi-constructive dismissal at DDB PR last year, I may have to leave Canada for good (alas, the lawyers at DDB made me sign a contract not to sue the company, in exchange for a couple of grand in hush money...sorry...I meant to say redundancy money). Whilst I no longer have family here, I do have many good friends here and I like living in Toronto. Trouble is, Toronto doesn't seem to like me back.

I can't help but think that being single, talented, witty, socially and environmentally conscientious, hard-working, and ethical with an IQ of 155 must make me an abnormal immigrant, unfit for any shape or style of Canadian cookie-cutter.

I'm off to finish crying into my cigarette on the porch. Then a bath and bed. Maybe tomorrow will be better, but I doubt it.