In a pickle

Pickle is the name of the pet bird belonging to my friends I am staying with, and is the affectionate name for someone/thing that is wholly disoriented and confused. Right now I am staying with some fantastic people who are giving me a leg up on job hunting and properties, so things ought to settle here in a couple of days or by the end of the week.

Tonight, its me biding time till the morning and I shall be hearing about jobs. I shall give it a few days more, and if things don't look up, I am heading back to toronto to make a shitload of money and then flying back to SG in possibly 4 months time, just as the weather gets nasty again in ruddy ol canada.

This is another one of those tough nights where I don't know what to do with myself. Tomorrow I will be fine, and I shall be looking hot in my suit and regulation white shirt. I really must take a picture one of these days.

Who knows. I don't even know why I am staying in this country, or any country for that matter. I feel so deflated, kind of floating around without an aim. People are telling me I should go back to TO where I have guaranteed earnings, but its a been there done that thing. Of course I miss my boating, my condo, the eating out and clubbing. But I gave it all up for something more, and now going back is not enough to make me feel better.

Its a funny thing, but at the time, I thought I would be fine returning to the same old. But now my demands have impossibly shifted to something a step higher, and everyone knows I don't step back, do I ? Eventually, I will have to save the world, or spend my life trying.