Recently I’ve found one funny aspect of myself: I am not okay when everything is okay.
Once in a while, few years ago, I had a very long period of depression for maybe 3-5 years. It was not that medical depression with anti-depressant drugs to eat all the day as in some movies, of course. Just a “writer’s block” applied to a programmer (programmer is a writer in some meanings). Then, once in a while, I decided to stop being miserable, made a plan, and started to implement it, step by step.
That is how I’ve relocated from provincial Krasnoyarsk to the rich and perspective Moscow. It was not easy for such a hick to move to the capital and almost the only prosperous city in the country. Rent, job, friends, funds – everything was a problem. And I’ve solved them all, one by one.
After 3½ years in Moscow I was as prosperous as the city was. Well, maybe I wasn’t rich businessman or whatsoever — it is just not my field. But as a hired webdev professional I was fine: I could find good job in 2-3 interviews only, I could earn 1.5-2 times more money than average developer earns, I could make a career from ordinary developer to head of department in 1 year (that is surprisingly fast indeed), so on.
At that point I decided life has became too easy, and thus too boring. So instead of eventually growing further, I intentionally invented new big problem for myself. I decided to relocate to another country. What a challenge!
So, after some researches and bureaucratic preparations, I moved. With a tourist visitor visa in my hands, with no work permit or arranged employment, with no exact vision on foreign job markets and probabilities to gain work there. Just moved.
And here I am in Toronto for 1½ month already out of 6 months allowed, wasting my time by relaxation and adaptation. That was part of the plan though: 1st-2nd months (March-April) are for adaptation, 2nd-5th (April-July) for job search, 6th (August) – for preparations of my next affair, probably a trip to California or so.
But now I sit here at home and think. What in the world moves me? How in the hell will I handle all these tasks? Why can I not just sit there in Moscow, happily and comfortably?
Panic and desperation have entered my mind yesterday. Job market seems to be too complicated, too competitive and too xenophobic. Bureaucracy routines seems to be full of insurmountable barriers. Without work permit I have no chances to find a job, and without a job I have no chances to get a work permit.
Luckily, panic is only something subconscious. The consciousness says: that was not the main goal, boy, you are here to have fun first, to explore – second, and to settle – third. I wonder why this does not help, why panic does not go away?
May it be so that panic is what I look for? Some kind of feeling I still can feel with my cynical and callous heart? Or maybe it is just a means of moving on?
Anyway, everything is not okay now. And thus I am okay.