Something's gotta give.

I feel I am standing on the threshold of revelation. Revelation of what, exactly, remains to be seen, but revelation is nonetheless imminent. Less than two weeks before my 27th birthday, I have been demoted from my current position and will, as of September 13, 2001, have been laid off due to a non-extension of my contract. This decision by my employer (which, albeit reluctantly, I shall not name herein) can only be considered a grossly unfair, discriminatory, and deliberately malicious act by a superior to terminate my employment. Doubly so, in fact, because my termination has been manipulated in a way that gives me no right to recourse through my union - it's been done legitimately. And triply so because I have busted my ass for this organization for four years.

This has come as a shock to me. Just days before I received this news, I was under the impression that I was to become a permanent employee - after nearly seven years of contract work - before the end of the summer. Only a few weeks prior to that, I had made the decision ot start my masters degree in the fall of 2012. I had met with my academic advisor to discuss my options and had started seriously investigating different MA programs in the fields of peace, conflict, and human security in both Canada and Europe. Just last week I submitted my application to the U of W, my alma mater, to return part time and take enough courses to boot my GPA to a level that might be deemed moderately acceptable to a graduate-level admissions committee.

Graduate work is officially on hold - losing my job is throwing too big a wrench into that plan for the time being. It's time to live my life (lmao CHANTEL) - or at least get started on the rest of it. Since returning from three months of practicum work in the DR Congo during the summer of 2009, I've slowly but steadily slipped into a rut. I found my heart in Congo and have longed to return since before I even left Kinshasa. I miss it terribly and can honestly say that I think about my Congolese family every single day. See http://meganalardcongo.blogspot.com for details. The reverse culture shock that I experienced upon my return transformed into a near loathing of North America. I began to undergo a profound struggle - as a Canadian; as a white person; as a person who has inherited a history of Western imperialism. Privilege and guilt. My first 18 months back can essentially be defined by privilege and guilt; struggling with guilt about my inherent privilege in this world. The intensity of these feelings has diminished some for me, partly taken over by a sense of complacency. I have been lulled back into consumer culture. Most of the things that stress me out are, upon reflection, relatively meaningless. This in turn stresses me out. You can see where this is going... but this is also due to the fact that I haven't actually done anything since I graduated in June 2010. Sure have talked a lot of shit about the things that I was going to do though. Volunteering with community development organizations, with international social justice organizations, with anyone for goodness' sake - I didn't even volunteer for Run for Rights this year. I have not exactly done much to create meaning in my life, but instead have been living for my dream to return to DRC - a dream that is, well, not much more than a dream at this point. I've struggled to no avail to find employment in the country over the past year or so, and have finally realized that what I'm doing is just not working. It's as though all I am doing is banging my head against a brick wall. How many times do I have to bang my head against this wall before I figure out that it's not going to stop hurting until I stop banging? Quite a few, it would seem. But hey, if you tell me something five or six times I catch on right away.

When I told my mom about what had happened with work, she got this spark in her eye, reached over and took my hands in hers, and told me that she had the answer for me. The perfect solution. We looked at each other for a moment, and I said, "Sell everything I own..." to which she responded, "...and move to Ottawa! I'll drive you!"

Best mother EVER.

I've wanted to live in Ottawa seriously for the past year, after only having spent five days there visiting my dearest and closest friend last summer. I've had shorter love affairs, but not nearly this intense. I've been applying for federal jobs there, but at this point I'm DONE with public service. Sorry public, I'm sick of serving you. In this capacity, anyhow. I don't care what I do there. I'll sell souvenirs from a kiosk on the side of the road for goodness' sake. I have no partner, no children, don't own property or a vehicle, and have nothing to lose. There is no reason that I should need to stay in Winnipeg, so I'm going. Gone.

Has anyone ever wondered where Dodge really is? Dodge is Winnipeg, and I'm getting the hell out.