Little by little

I’m literally exhausted. I’ve been so busy in these last days moving my stuff to a new place that I couldn’t even check my e-mail, never mind find some time for my blog.

Yes, I’m relocating again, going back to downtown.

The idea was in my mind for quite a long time: it was just to annoying to me to check every time the bus time on internet, then run desperately to catch it, maybe just to miss it for 30 seconds or to find out it was 15 minutes late. And after the bus, take the Skytrain and the bus again to go to the office or for my weekly shopping.

It’s good to keep fit, but I’d prefer to do it as a choice (like jogging) rather than chasing a bus driver who did not notice me. Plus, I really hate arrive late for any reason, and bus 15 is almost always late!

Yet the main reason was quite different: my housemate.

Anybody can say to have or have had weird housemates, but mine is, let’s say, out of ordinary.

The poor man is totally crazy, spending most of his time at home talking loud to himself, asking himself questions and trying to answer (but he often says: “I don’t know”).

It’s extremely annoying to have around such a person, as I work nighttime from home and I would prefer some quiet. Being an alcoholic, he burps and farts continuously, makes a mess every time he uses the kitchen and blames myself because I haven’t cleaned it, confuses the washing machine with a garden (better not to mention the amount of nails, stones and soil I had to take out from there before washing my clothes).

Curiously, he expects I clean the kitchen he makes dirty, but he believes the kitchen is his, and does not really stand I use it; I still remember when once he totally freaked out and started shouting like crazy at midnight, just because while I was there I had went out of my room to fill in my bottle with some fresh water.

Frankly, the last months have been quite a nightmare for me, feeling myself as I was in prison, having to deal with an adult man’s tantrums. Time to be released then, and in few hours I’ll leave this place.

Now I’m just impatient to get to my new room, and anxious for the feedback of the immigration.

Last month I applied to extend my work permit just before it expired. Years ago it would just have been a formality: “Do you have a job? Ok, approved”.

Not anymore. This is Canada 2013, during the worldwide crisis. It is my understanding this country panicked as a reaction to the downturn and, despite of being relatively healthy compared to others (included their big southern neighbor) they fear something bad and are making the immigration process something close to the impossible.

The process is double: you have to apply to extend your work permit, and your company has to apply for the LMO (Labour Market Opinion) which proves you’re really indispensable for your employer.

I don’t even remember clearly the amount of papers I filled in, partially alone, and partially with the help of an immigration consultant: I just know I was extremely nervous and not in a well mood.

It was a torture that is yet to be over, as my request could be rejected.

It would be tragic if, after so many efforts on my side to get a job in the field I like and real contract, I was forced to leave Canada for any reason the immigration service can find to kick back my ass to Italy.

There’s nothing else for me to do than keep my fingers crossed and the hope alive.

I must try to be optimistic and, after all, if I look at the past, I see some improvement: now I have a full-time job, and in few hours I will have a better place to live in.

That’s the lesson I got from Canada: you can make it, but this country takes it very easy to reward you.

You can get what you want, but little by little. I hope immigration officers will agree with me.