[ Paralipomena ]

I am afraid, it is too late for me with 34 years to become a Serbian pathologist, but I still could become Canadian. I'm seriously considering that.

Sure, I'd have to be a so-called "Independent skilled worker" and have to be aware of the ubiquitous fact that even as good a PhD degree in literature as mine is doesn't count for much. The Precariat is the future I am going to meet, most propably in Canada, as well as in bad old Europe.

Sure, my expertise is most welcome to different organisations, institutions and people - as long as it is voluntary or bohemian-like cheap. Mental nutrition is regarded as being a common good and not refundable.

Why then, one might ask, go to Canada for the very same existential day-to-day existence as somebody who has gained a PhD in literature and is currently working without salary? Well, if I manage to afford the multiple application fees for becoming a permanent Canadian resident or landed immigrant, the chances of starting my own "business" or getting a job for which I am qualified (and not overqualified) are still better there than here.

Though, the sentiment of nostalgia for former (better) times is growing at Canadian universities, too, still, one is not forced to - almost literally - transform water into wine and to conduct the debris of education structures.

This sounds very cynical, I guess, and in a way it is. I'd be supposed to be happy about having gained a PhD finally. Yet, the tiresome task of applying for so-la-la jobs which have little to do with my profile continues and leaves me little time and money to enjoy and to be proud of myself. This is one of the reasons, why I kept silence in this blog for quite a time. Well, hope dies last, and thus, I start over again and try to be with my imagined community again on a regular basis.