Well, it’s official. I am leaving Calgary for good.
In less than a month, I shall embark on a fascinatingly dull journey across Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and the boring parts of Ontario, to finally set foot on the glorious river-island thing that is Montreal, Quebec.
Hey, maybe I’ll be caught on that Just for Laughs: Gags show? I could be all “Mon dieu! Quelle surprise!” and stuff.
Uh, but, yeah—I now must partake in the horrifically stressful ritual of moving. Truthfully, although I’ve yet to begin, I’m already sick of it. This time is even worse than my relocation to Calgary. I’ve since bought some annoyingly large furniture that, I think, wouldn’t have fit in HUB Mall.
Though, despite the annoyances of boxing everything up, carrying it down four stories into a U-Haul or Budget Rent-A-Thing and driving for four-or-five straight days, I could not be more excited to move. (Or, more specifically, I could not be more excited to arrive—the moving process is decidedly less exciting.)
You see, Alberta is not where I’m supposed to be. This has been clear for some time now, especially after traveling. Alberta’s culture, politics, ideologies—it’s all so… uniformly Alberta. Not me at all. So, while the rest of the world seems to be rushing into Calgary, I am getting the heck out.
Now, who wants to help me move? Anyone? I pay diddly-squat, if that helps.
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