feet to the ground

Balance, balance, balance.

The concept mocks me almost as much as fate does. Balance. It is my zodiac sign. It is a phrase I try and keep in my head at all times.

It is also an idea that completely evades me most of the time. Balance. Libra. A scale. What people don't seem to understand that a balance is calm, peaceful--when it's in equilibrium. Knock a balance just so slightly to one side and you're in havoc. When the scale tips, it crashes.

I always succumb to its' clutches, too. I allow myself to get too high, knowing that I'll come crashing down but just not caring. I'll also dig myself so deep into a hole that it's difficult to see the ray of sun that is shooting down for me.

I was elated yesterday when CBC/Hockey Night in Canada called me and asked me to be the permanent runner in Montreal. Running around like a madwoman(much to the amusement of the players) paid off and they offered me the position. It's nowhere near full time--it's just every Saturday--but it's a great start and a great next step toward my goal.

But then today I find out that the job I left in June--the one that was guarateed to still be there when I got back--is actually not so certain at all. When I e-mailed the director to tell her when I'd be returning, she said she'd do her best and keep me posted.

So a guarantee turned into a maybe. Which when you have bills to pay and a loan to pay off, a maybe can literally keep you up all night. Inducing panic attacks.

I've never been okay when my environment is thrown upside down. I can't handle it. In the span of a few days, one roommate is moving out, one is moving in, and I have to give up the room I've been subletting because the other roommate is back.

But roommate moving in already has allllll of her stuff all over the living room. I'm not good with messes. I can't handle them. They literally give me fits.

So I have to give up my room before anybody moves out. Then roommate moves out. Then a few days later, roommate moves in. I will be living on a couch for a month. And for the first few weeks of that month, I will have somebody else's stuff piled all around me.

I want to stay in Halifax. I do. I'm just not looking forward to not having a room, especially since I find refuge in my room. Sometimes I need to shut myself off from everything and everyone and have my own space. I won't have that for a month.

Stress.

i'm losing you and it's effortless

Leaving here is going to be the toughest thing I have ever done. Thinking about it gets me so, so upset. I'm mad that this isn't my "real" life. I'm mad that I'm growing up and have to deal with things like starting my career, and only getting 2 weeks of vacation a year. I'm mad that I only made this summer move this year, instead of doing this every summer since I was 18. I'm mad that I wasn't born here, that I didn't grow up here. I'm mad--distraught--that at the end of September, I have to move back to Montreal, back to my parents basement, back to working as a receptionist at a clinic. Back to a life that I realize I hate.

I don't know how I'm going to do it.

I made a promise to myself. I'm going to go back to Montreal and work my buns off and save my money, pay off my car loan. I'm going to apply to a few universities across Ontario in February, for my Master's degree. If I don't get in, then in April, I am moving here. Moving. Starting new. Getting away from Montreal. I hate my life there. I can't do it anymore. I can't work a menial 9-5 job and live with my parents. I feel like I'm going nowhere with my life. I can't even express how frustrating that is. I have my degree. I am passionate and good at what I do. And yet, when it came time to call on all the contacts I've made over the years through busting my ass off--not a single one of them can help me. Not one.


I can't find a job in the NHL. I have applied for everything. And returning to Montreal is stifling. It's a reminder that time is going by, I'm growing up, and I'm still as scared as I was when I was 16.

I really don't know what to do. I am applying for every open position in the NHL, but I'm pretty sure none of the teams even read the online applications. Haven't gotten a single call back. And if I don't get into my Master's, then I don't have a plan. I DON'T HAVE A PLAN. I will coast through life in a mediocre state, working a lame ass 9-5 job that doesn't even require a degree, never achieving anything that I set out to do. Because nobody would give me the chance.

I think I'm going to get back on anti-depressants when I move back. The anxiety and dread is that bad