Immigration Quest Part 5: The End of the Road

When I last left you in this series, I was applying for graduate schools that don’t require the GRE to get into, slogging out god awful hours at my McJob that I fantasize about quitting or being fired from and spending time with Raj, the puppy I recently got/only thing keeping me going.

Not much has really changed since then. I still get up each day (Later and later because, there’s no real motivation to do anything else.), eat bad food and apply for other jobs all over the United States in hopes of finding something, anything at all that would allow me to stay here past July 5th. I thought that routine would stay constant, but yesterday I came to a sad sudden realization.

I’ve resigned myself to inevitably having to go back up to Canada.

Yes, in a matter of months, I will be forced to return once again to the god awful north. Back to my horrible home in the awful town I grew up in, back to being separated from everyone I love and care about and back to looking for a job in a commodities based economy that is tanking.

Now, people have always tried to tell me that “it’s not that bad”, that I could just go “live in Vancouver or Toronto” or that I should “quit whining and be thankful for my successes.”

Fuck those people. I hate everything about where I grew up. I hate the societal dynamics, the culture that seems to be obsessed with England and France to the point of fetishism, the god awful weather and really if I am being honest, the people that accept all of that with pride.

And so for years I wanted to move south. More than anything else I have ever wanted in my life, moving to America was my most important goal and quite possibly the one thing I needed to do in order to be happy and find the success that I felt I was capable of getting outside of Canada.

And I tried, really I did. I went to college in Washington, cultivated a solid network of professional contacts, paid a boat load of money to try to come legally and after all of that, have attained absolutely nothing for my efforts. Aside from my job in the south that is killing me.

I mean, I don’t really understand why this was made to be unobtainable. If I offer to work for free for a company, if I offer to pay them in advance the full cost necessary to get me a green card, why do they still say no? What is it about me that makes it seem like a foolish endeavor?

I wish I knew. Then again, I wish I had done a lot of things different. If I could go back, I wouldn’t have gone to college where I was forced to attend, would have dated more in hopes of finding a wife and thus getting into America that way and if I am being honest, wouldn’t have gotten into broadcasting at all. I find that I really don’t have the talent to succeed in the field.

Ultimately, it’s all woulda, coulda, shoulda. There’s nothing I can do now except keep applying to grad schools that won’t accept me and out of desperation look for someone to get married to. The false hope that those two endeavors will provide will do nicely until my return to the north. Once up there, I will spiral out of control and probably won’t last a year before checking out.

I can see it now, clear as day. When I’m gone, tell people my story dear reader. May it serve as an example to U.S. politicians to fix the system and a warning to those who seek their dreams.

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