I’m back, bitches

2016, I think it’s safe to say, has been the world’s worst year. No one has been spared from this godless shit-show.

I am eternally grateful I’ve been spared from the forest fires, droughts, shootings, fentanyl overdoses, wars, bombings and America (just in general). I am, however, still going to complain about my life. Buckle up or GTFO now.

I’ve been accosted by homeless people. I’ve had my life threatened. People in masks and non-religious/threatening face coverings are becoming a near-daily sighting.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that with the housing market the way it is, it’s literally the same level of investment in renting a one-bedroom apartment as it is to start a mortgage on a fucking house (and not, ‘oh housing is so cheap’… no, one-bedroom apartments start at $950/mo with no fancy-shmancy things like electricity, internet or parking. Not to mention that food I love to selfishly fill myself with every day.)

The myth of a full-time job being enough to keep you in the lap of luxury with a great pad, good food, a car and nice clothes is bullshit.

Speaking of gainful full-time employment, my job is up the air for another month or so, so all my plans of moving, marrying and everything else have been put on indefinite hold.

Before I go hoard all the drugs I can get my hands on stock up on all my medications and get all my teeth filled before I lose my medical coverage, let’s get some of my other affairs in order.

I’ve spent most of this year running around trying to find a new apartment because of a lot of problems (including a forced invasion of privacy inspection because the drunken paranoid landlords thought we were harbouring bedbugs) and safety concerns about the building/part of town I’ve been living in the last four years, and all that time was a waste because it turns out landlords in this city are money-grubbing assholes who don’t care if your dinky apartment costs a third or more of your paycheck every month. Even the places smaller and grosser than where I am now were asking for more than the $1,000 rent than I already pay.

Because since when has your money ever really been YOUR money, anyway?

Well, I am definitely glad I didn’t blow any bucks on moving now, because I just found out that the company I work for is downsizing.

A lot.

And I won’t find out until approximately xmas whether or not I make the cut. So fuck you if you were expecting a gift.

Sure, my problems are first-world at best. But I’ve still been a mopey motherfucker who hasn’t found the drive to write anything (or get to the gym or do much of anything productive/therapeutic) in a long time.

And while Buzzfeed tells me my feelings are valid no matter how self-indulgent and unhelpful they are, I feel like maybe it’s time to get some perspective and try to push myself more.

Who knows, maybe this time I’ll finally end up in the right direction.

Until then, please bear with me while I go through the growing pains of trying to put everything together again and while I plan the next adventure that is my life.

I’ll be attempting to get back into my old posting schedule of every Monday, Wednesday and Friday as soon as possible.

I’m also in the works of getting a youtube channel set up for some time early 2017 and working on that novel I’ve been banging on about to everyone in my life for way too long now with not nearly enough to show for it (same for that stand-up comedy routine I’m over-due to perform.) Any constructive criticisms, questions, comments, rude remarks or organizational tips are more than welcome.

As always, thanks for putting up with me.

I hope to one day create and distribute something worthwhile.

-Steph

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