My Old Company Cannot Afford My Services

I want to share something with you. I would not call this a dream, or a fantastical thought I had, but it is a blend of the two. This is a blend of something that actually happened to me, with a mix of a fantasy scenario, and it combines two things that I have spoken about in length about this blog. These two things are my value and the time I worked at an old company. Let me briefly go over these things and then lay out this scenario that had been buzzing through my head for the last little while.

Labor Shortage?!?

I want to use this blog post to talk about an experience I had while looking for a job earlier this year, but before I do that, I need to add some context to this experience.

I hear talk from experts saying that Canada is currently facing a labor shortage, meaning that companies are having a hard time filling job positions as there are either not enough people applying to these roles, or job candidates are not able to match the qualifications of the job itself. From my observations, it seems like most of these job openings are low-paying job openings from the service industry. As awful as the COVID-19 pandemic is, there is a strange positive that came out of it. The COVID-19 pandemic led to a positive shift in how we work in our jobs and the overall work culture (such as working from home). I also find that more people are better able to gauge their overall worth to an employer, and it led to another shift of people leaving their current jobs and finding better-paying jobs and more convenient job environments.

Changing Jobs (Again) And Trying To Fit In

FYI: Post was written last week, during my last week at my previous job.

I cannot believe that I am going to write another entry in my "Changing Jobs" series of blog posts. So, as of writing this post, I am changing jobs yet again. I will be joining a new company that is offering even more money, with better benefits and increased vacation time. All of that is fantastic, but I want to talk about my time at this current job (at the time of writing) and how I ended up leaving this company after around 20 months of employment.

My Experiences Living With The Color Of My Skin

The car that attracted police attention, apparently.

The year 2020 continues to be a difficult year for the world. Along with the COVID-19 pandemic, the murder of a black man by the name of George Floyd by the knee of a power-hungry white police officer continues to fuel worldwide protests calling for an end to police brutality and institutionalized racism within police forces. I initially did not want to talk about the protests as I felt like there are better people that can talk about this. However, I have a platform where I can talk about my experiences living as a person of color, stemming from my black and Indian background. As I continue to see videos of the protests and the heavy-handed response from the US government, I realized that it is important for me to speak out about my experiences living as a person of color and to talk about how different life is for myself compared to a white person.

How I Drove Without Car Insurance For Almost A Year

I am usually meticulous when it comes to my car insurance policy. Every year, I look through my policy and discuss with my insurance agent what I deem is necessary to include in my coverage, and what is not necessary. My goal in going through my policy is to try to reduce my already exorbitant monthly payment slightly, which is without success.

Recently, I received my renewed car insurance policy for 2019-2020, after lamenting the monthly increase in my payment (yet again) and reviewing the policy, I went to put the new insurance slip in my car. When I went into my glove box to put the insurance slip in my folder, I noticed that the insurance slip that was showing in my folder was from 2017-2018. I also had previous insurance slips from 2016 (when I bought my car), and from 2016-2017. I was missing my insurance slip from my current insurance period.

It instantly dawned on me that I was driving without proof of insurance for almost an entire year.

I ran out of my car and back into my house to look for my insurance slip for my current insurance period. I found the slip without too much trouble, and not torn out from my policy documents. I had no idea how I forgot to put this insurance slip in my car last year. Regardless, I took my current insurance slip and my newly acquired insurance slip for 2019-2020 and put them in my car, so I would not have to forget for the next year.

Imagine if the police pulled me over in the last year and did not have my proof of insurance. That would have been a bad situation for me, which also would have been completely avoidable.

The Therapeutic Excellence of Strip Clubs

One night, I went out for drinks with a friend of mine. After we had our fill of beer at the local bar, my friend was feeling a little adventurous, and so he came up with the suggestion that we go to the strip club. I was reluctant, but I ultimately agreed to his request (after much pleading from my friend). Therefore, off we went to the strip club for a night of adult voyeurism.

Comparing Myself To My Microwave: Which Is Better?

This is actually a picture of my microwave. Not pictured: My angry co-worker.

One morning, I was not able to come into work, as my car was full of ice from the previous day's snowstorm and I was not able to get out of my driveway. I had the only key to my office at work, where it also had the department microwave, so my department co-workers can make use of it. Of course, because there is no access to the office, a senior department co-worker of mine was completely livid that day because she was not able to heat up her coffee in that office which I had the key.

Why I Choose Not To Be Drunk Around Co-Workers

I like to enjoy a good drink sometimes. A little bit of alcohol helps me to socialize, and it helps me to engage in great laughs with the company around me. However, there are a group of people in my life where I am hesitant to drink alcohol around, and that would be my co-workers. Before I dive into why it is dangerous to drink a large amount of alcohol around co-workers, allow me to share a little story of a night out with former co-workers that went sour. This night out serves as the basis of my feelings toward drinking around co-workers.

The Carrot Rewards App And The Perils Of Greed

There have been many occasions where there was a creation of something, which provided a considerable positive benefit to many people. With that positive benefit, there was a conception and nurturing of a community that was reaping it. Now, imagine a company that is taking advantage of an established community and squeezing it like a lemon for financial gain. You are probably thinking of companies like Electronic Arts and Amway, but I want to talk about a product on a much smaller scale that affected me personally. I want to talk about my experience using the Carrot Rewards app.

You Should Drink Alcohol Before Your Class

I was always shy when it came to speaking up in class. If I did not have to saying anything in front of my classmates, I would not. I never liked speaking up in class because I did not want to say the wrong thing in front of the teacher or my classmates and be embarrassed. I especially did not like when classes I took, had a grade specifically for participation, which contributed to your final grade. With participation grades, I had no choice but to contribute to discussions in class.

The Condom Poker Story

Photo taken from Brock University's Twitter

A number of years have passed since the events of this story occurred, and I believe that now is the right time to tell the story of how I crashed a major campus event during my first year at university. My university friends filled some of the details in, as I was too drunk to remember the whole story. Regardless, this story will give a sense of what my mindset was at the time, which was quite different from what I am now.

The Inebriatti: A Colourful Chapter In Toronto FC Supporter Culture History

Thursday presented some significant Toronto FC news. TFC has decided to permanently terminate the Inebriatti's status as a recognized supporters group after the events in Ottawa where flares and an explosive device were used in their away section against the Ottawa Fury. This means that Inebriatti members cannot organize in the south end of BMO Field. They must also take a course on MLS Fan Conduct at their own expense if they want to gain re-entry back into the south end of BMO Field.

The Meaning Of Value

What is the meaning of value to me?

I am not talking about monetary value, or sentimental value. What I am talking about is the value that a person places on another person. I am talking about someone's importance in the view of others, as well as the value someone places on themselves. Value has been an ever-present theme in my life, and I have always struggled to evaluate my own worth, as well as to gauge my own worth to others.

One Day, in June 2014

It was supposed to be like every other Toronto FC matchday. I would get excited when I wake up. I would hop on the train to BMO Field while downing a few beverages, and enjoy myself at the stadium with singing, chanting, and generally just acting a fool.

On one beautiful June day at BMO Field, things were different.

BMO Field is the one place where I can truly feel like myself. BMO Field is the place where I can get away from the pressures and stresses of life. In the real world, it may seem to someone that I am normal, but when I go to watch Toronto FC, there is a primal instinct that takes over me. Toronto FC, despite being a terrible team and organization, got me through some very bad times in my life. For that, I have nothing but the greatest gratitude. For 90 minutes, I completely block out everything else going on in the world. This was the place where I can be me, and where I won't be judged. Never would I think that the troubles in my daily life and my enjoyment of matches at BMO Field would mix in any way. It just couldn't, right?

However, on that June day at BMO Field, I knew she would be there.

She was a girl I knew from university. We would chat regularly on social media and occasionally we would meet up in person to hang out over a drink or two. She was a wonderful girl, and she was the person who I enjoyed the company of the most during my time at university. Admittedly, I did have some feelings for her, but I never confessed it to her, due to the fear that it may negatively affect our friendship. Also, around the beginning of 2014, the last time we saw each other before the June TFC match, she was going through relationship difficulties, and I was dating a girl myself. The feelings still lingered inside me, and I occasionally thought about breaking up with my (then) girlfriend for a shot at her.

I would sometimes tell her about my trials and tribulations as a Toronto FC supporter, and despite never going to a match, she seemed interested in going at some point. I was a bit taken back when she texted me that she would be going to her first TFC match on that June day. I didn't ask her who she was going with, but I did ask where she was sitting, so that I may find her during the match.

I was in a state of anxiety. As I've explained, Toronto FC is where I get away from everything in life, including speaking to her. It's not meant to be taken as an offence, but watching Toronto FC is the best place to clear my head, and it is my personal "inner sanctum" to engage in chanting, drinking, and other fun things. To have her there at the match where I get away from everything worried me greatly. When if she sees me at the match, and I'm leading or taking part in some of the chants, or drinking heavily and swearing excessively at opposing players.

Even worse than that, I was extremely worried about who she might be going with. When if it was her boyfriend, whether her old one, or someone else she met. Did I mention that I had strong feelings for her, stronger than any crush or girlfriend I ever had? For a time, I genuinely thought she was "the one". To see her cozying up with some guy at the place where I am the happiest in life would destroy me emotionally and psychologically. Guess what? I was in for a serious dose of reality.

The day started seemingly normal. I met a buddy of mine at the train station and we took the train to the match. I packed a potent concoction of Wray and Nephew and orange juice to sip on, so I was already liquored up by the time we got to BMO Field. On that train ride, I felt the anxiety build in me, which the alcohol may have made a sizeable contribution to. Of course, I had the usual pre-match jitters, but my anxiety was amplified by the fact that she was going to be at the match, possibly with someone such as a boyfriend. I had to get to the bottom of this, because it was killing me inside. I made the decision to go see her at half-time, since I knew what section she was sitting in.

I met another buddy of mine, and we all went to the north patio to watch the first-half. I remember the match quite well, actually. Toronto FC were up against the San Jose Earthquakes, and Jermain Defoe scored a penalty to make it 1-0 to TFC. That score remained until half-time. I told my buddies that I was going to see someone at half-time, and that I may or may not come back for the second half. The halftime whistle blew, and at this point, I was a dangerous mix of anxiousness and drunkenness. I left the north patio and began to walk what seemed like a never-ending staircase up to the west grandstand with my overpriced beer. I wished that staircase actually was never-ending, because what I saw shocked me.

As soon as I walked to the top of the stairs and looked over to the entrance of Section 127, she walked out, holding the hand of another man. My heart dropped, and I felt my chest get tighter. It was almost like I couldn't move, like a black hole formed inside my body and proceeded to internally tear me apart. At this point, I felt like I was on autopilot. I had to go investigate.

They were walking away from where I was, so I approached them from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. She seemed happy to see me, and on the surface I was also happy to see her, but on the inside, my pain was unbearable. She introduced me to her boyfriend, who seemed like a nice guy. He was a big Toronto FC supporter, like myself, so at least we had something in common. We made small talk, I asked them about the match and about her first experience at BMO Field watching TFC. I couldn't really remember what they said, because I was still dealing with the metaphorical kick in the groin when I first saw them.

We parted ways after some conversation and I went back to the north patio where my buddies were. I told them all about my situation, and their understanding made me feel a bit better, and to get my mind back on the match. At that point, I did everything I could to make myself forget about what happened at halftime. I drank more, I led chants, and I abused opposing players (without going overboard). It was a great short-term remedy, but when I got back home after the match, the thoughts about that moment began to creep back into my mind. I even went into a depression for a few days.

This happened about 9 months ago at the time of writing this post, and it is okay for me to finally tell this story. This is behind me now, but I still have some worries that are still lingering. I am a 2015 Toronto FC season ticket holder, and I will most likely be at all the Toronto FC matches at BMO Field. I'll be honest, I don't really want to run into them again. It's something that I am still not comfortable with, but knowing that around 30,000 people will be at the stadium for a TFC home game, the chances of me encountering them should be minimal. The girl and I also haven't really spoke since that June day, and honestly, I don't really have a desire to talk to her again. However, I am open to rekindling our friendship. I'm not sure, only time will tell. I do wish her all the best, though. I will treasure the good times we had together.

Felt good to finally get that off my chest. It felt like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.

The Post-Graduate Classmate

This year, I kept myself busy by completing my post-graduate diploma at a nearby college, specializing in Project Management. There were only six people enrolled in the January intake of this program, and while I could probably write a story on the five other people in the program, there was one specific person whom I had an interesting relationship with. This post is about my interactions with her, who, for the sake of this post, I shall call "Masia". I will not reveal her true identity, for the fear that she may find this post, and come after me in a series of hateful texts and Facebook posts. Unlike the other story that I wrote about Dave, Masia actually has a social media presence, and I have to be careful about what I say here about her.

Of the six people enrolled in the program, four of them were international students from India. Masia was one of those people. She was already an accomplished woman prior to coming here, with her Engineering Degree and a good job in India. I struggled to understand why she would come here to further her education when she seemingly had everything going for her in India. I guess, India isn't exactly the best place in the world to live in, which would most likely explain why a lot of Indian students would go to other places, including Canada, to live, work, and study.

From the first class of the first semester to the last class of the second semester, it was clear that Masia was determined to try her best and get the best possible marks she can get, and I respect her for that. However, her rationale and the way she tried to obtain the best marks she could, left me in a bewildered state. I'll explain the rationale first. She was absolutely convinced that by getting good marks, she will able to get a job in Canada. It almost never works that way, and that kind of thinking is plainly naive. Marks can help to get a job, but it's not about what you know that gets you a job, it's who you know. In my opinion, your networks and connections are much more helpful in landing a job, rather than your knowledge.

Whenever Masia gets a test or an assignment back, and she gets something wrong, she takes it upon herself to cut into class time and present her case to the teacher that her answers were correct and that she should get credit for that. It rarely works, but her willingness to use the class time for her personal gain instead of the rest of us learning new material left myself and the other students angry. Why couldn't she wait until after class to present her issues to the teacher? These actions relate to her incessant pursuit for good grades. Another thing I found annoying about her is that she would always ask us what marks we got whenever we would get a test or assignment back, like it was some sort of competition. You get good grades to benefit yourself, not to use it to claim superiority over others.

Masia was one of the most difficult people I have ever had to work with in my days at school. Because of her engineering and managerial background, her seniority, and the fact that she was about four years older than the rest of us, she was seen to be the "leader" of any assignments or projects that we worked on. I also had natural leadership tendencies, and I was also seen to be a leader within the group as well. Inevitably, we clashed on a number of things over the duration of the program. Although she regularly produced quality work for the team when it came to projects, whenever she presented issues to the team, she did it in a way that was confrontational and detrimental to the team and the project we were working on.

Masia also tried to engage in micromanaging practices that made myself and the other classmates uncomfortable. For example, when we were in a team together, I wrote a paper that happened to be a couple of words over a prescribed limit. After the teacher said she was okay with it, Masia decided to throw a fit and chew me out over the fact that I had a couple of words over the limit despite the fact the teacher was fine with it. Masia was very strict with rules, which can be a good and a bad thing. There were times where Masia wouldn't listen to reason, and it seemed like it was always her way or the highway. That made her a bit petulant.

When it came to presenting projects and other material, Masia was by far one of the most boring presenters I have seen in my post-secondary schooling. If you tell her to present something for 5 minutes, she will drone on for 20 minutes. She always fails to stay brief and to-the-point. She always has to explain every single thing in great detail, which is mind-numbing for the rest of us. It almost seemed like she thought we were stupid. There were times where teachers had to cut presentations short because she took up a lot of time. I would always use the stopwatch function on my phone every time she would present something, because she would always go over the limit, which is hilarious considering she would always try to go by the rules.

Masia is a perfectionist, and her attitude and demeanor reflects that. I remember a specific time in one of our major projects where she demanded she be the leader of this project, and she sadly misread the project description and instructions. Our project reflected this misdirection, and Masia took the blame for the critical error. Apparently, after this, she went in the bathroom to cry for about 45 minutes, and she profusely apologized through a badly-worded text message.

Masia rates getting good grades highly, so it was no question that she became a bit of a target when it came to submitting peer reviews for major projects. I'll admit, I deliberately gave her low marks and listed some of the issues that was described in this blog post as the reasons. I suspect that other classmates did the same. After a presentation for a major project where I presented an issue log that may or may not have portrayed her in a negative light, she angrily responded in another of her badly-worded text messages. I did apologize after.

The biggest lessons I took from my interactions with Masia are the ways how not to be a good leader. Just because you're older and have more experience in a managerial background, it doesn't mean it makes you a better leader than someone else. Masia was authoritative, confrontational, and she engaged in micromanaging. Her failings as a leader helped me to become a better leader myself. It is important for everyone to have a say in how a project can be run, and also, the team members need to be empowered so that they can be better motivated to complete their work. My interactions with Masia were hard to deal with sometimes, but overall, it was definitely a learning experience.

My Thoughts and Experiences of My 4 Years at University

So, it has come to this. It's over. I can't help but think that my time in St. Catharines and going to Brock University has went by so fast.

A bit of background on why I came to St. Catharines to live for almost 4 years. There were circumstances back home that would have made my life impossible to live if I stayed home and commuted to a local university. There were people in my high school that tried to make my life a living hell, which I have long since cut from my life. Also, there were some other frightening experiences that I have gone through, that made me want to get away from everything. I made too many mistakes, I made too many enemies, and I certainly made the wrong friends in high school, and what I truly wanted was a new life.

I got that opportunity at a new life, a new me, when I accepted my offer to go to Brock University in September of 2009. For me, it was an opportunity at a fresh start, and an opportunity to forget the wrongs of my past.

When I arrived at residence for the first time, it definitely wasn't what I expected. I was never that good at making friends, and for the first few weeks, I had to repeatedly come out of my comfort zone to try to make friends. It wasn't easy, due to my social awkwardness at the time, but ultimately, it was for the best. I remember the distinct moment when I legitimately felt accepted by my new residence friends, and it came during a competition at the end of the first week of university involving all the halls from all of the residences of university, where I apparently successfully guessed the height of the CN Tower for my hall. Reading up on my random trivia in my spare time certainly paid off.

The rest of my first year went a lot easier after that. I was doing decent in school, I was firmly entrenched in a circle of friends, and I was always meeting new people. Though at times, my first year of university and living in residence felt a bit like high school, because people were still stuck in the immature high school mindset (myself included sometimes), the people in university were much easier to approach and talk to than the people at high school, which was very cliquey. The first year of university was the last time I really got to be a bit immature (it showed in some nights), and it set me for some growing up in the subsequent years of my university career.

When second year started, I made the decision to live by myself, which baffled a lot of my friends, but it was the best decision I ever made. I can't stand living with others, and I keep hearing stories about ruined friendships over roommate issues, which is something I don't want to have happen to me. Living by myself also forced me to grow up and truly fend for myself, which was something I relished, and made me learn a lot about what I wanted. There were a couple of drawbacks about living alone. One of these drawbacks trying to keep in contact with my friends, and at times, I felt like a burden to them. Relating to this, the worst part about living alone was the constant loneliness every night. Some nights, it was manageable, but other nights, it destroyed me emotionally. There were some nights that I wished that someone was around to talk to. If you are going to live alone, be prepared for the emotional pain that comes along with it, but I managed to get through it.

Second year, school-wise, was a lot tougher. I was originally accepted to Brock to do accounting, but with every day that passed, I was losing the passion to finish my accounting degree. I was struggling with classes and nearly failing them to the point where I pretty much lost it and demanded to myself that I needed to change. There was also some events that took place back home which made it unlikely that myself and my family was going to pay for my tuition for the rest of my time at university. With all that going on in my life at the time, I thought my life was finished. Second year was easily the worst time for me at university.

Third year came along, and for some reason everything started to change. I got out of accounting and looked for something within the business profession that I enjoyed, and I found it in Information Systems. With that, my grades started to improve significantly. To be honest, I don't really remember much from third year, other than trying to improve my grades and trying to keep in contact with friends.

In order to try to graduate in 4 years, I chose to take courses in the spring/summer. Coming off a generally positive third year of university, I was optimistic about this, even if it meant staying in school a couple of months and missing out on some sunny days. That spring turned out to be the spring of re-acquaintance for me, which was absolutely fantastic. That spring was also the time where I began to really delve deep into who my real friends were here at university, and who I thought were good friends but ended up being worse than I thought they were. Living in St. Catharines during that time had a major flaw, being that the vast majority of my friends went home for the spring/summer, so loneliness hit especially hard for me at that time.

Fourth year could not have been any better for me. I was taking courses which I enjoyed and was doing incredibly well in, I was doing independent research in the hopes of attaining new skills which I also enjoyed, and I was continuing to be social, which helped my general mood. With all this fun I was having these days, it's hard for me to come to grips with finally having to leave for good. I'll leave some general thoughts about this entire experience.

When I first came to university, I was young and stupid. But now I am four years older, four years wiser, and finally grown up. There is the possibility that I will end up going back home and potentially face my own demons from my past, but I think I will be able to handle it now. All I can do now is try to look forward, and try not to think about my past. I've met some great people here, probably some of the best people I have met so far in my life, and it was a welcome change from the negativity that surrounded me in my high school years. I also believe that I have gotten exactly what I wanted from this entire experience, in terms of an education, and in terms of hopefully building long lasting friendships as well. Looking back at all of this, there were some things I could have changed, but it is what it is. I am glad that I didn't have to commute from home to go to a local university, because I craved true independence, and it was what I got.

Finally, I would like to thank everyone I've ever met in my four years at university who has made a positive impact in my life, from the first weeks of residence, to the parties and bar nights, and beyond. You have truly made me feel welcome and loved, and for that, I am eternally grateful. You all were everything and more...

Until the next time we may meet, I say, goodbye, and take care of yourselves.