Well, I did it. I quit. I walked in, gave my notice and walked out. It wasn't as simple as that, I was followed out and argued with despite making it very clear that it was not a conversation, but the fact that he was totally incredulous and acted as if I was an emotional nutter and he had never so much as spoken down to me actually made it a lot easier. There is something so empowering about making the decision to not allow yourself to be victimized and to take control of the situation. So I am officially unemployed and living in a city where I don't speak the language. And it actually feels good. Well, until the impending panic sets in. I passed a guy this morning in the street who was smoking and drinking from a bottle in a brown paper bag and thought, "duder, I so relate." But I'm not there. Yet.
On the upside, if you have to be unemployed in Montreal in the winter, this is the kind of weather to do it in. It is - dare I say it? - warm, I think about -2, sunny and altogether lovely. Aside from the avalanche of dog crap emerging from beneath the snow, but I just avoid the parks. I have yet to go skating, but I'm not worried, I'm sure the mercury will drop to a pipe freezing, skin cracking, nipple hardening -40 again soon. Ahhhhh.....Montreal.