Thursday, April 25, 2013

I moved to a place called Flin Flon.

Where do I begin?

     As the title of this post would suggest. I moved to a place called Flin Flon, Manitoba.  But, I'm going to back up a little bit. 

     Several months ago, I was living in the largest city in Canada. I had a wife and child to support, I was very under-employed and I was more or less at the end of my rope. I had applied to numerous good jobs in Toronto but found myself getting nowhere, taking whatever work I could to make ends meet. It wasn't enough. Something had to be done. The shortest version of this story goes as follows. I have an IT Recruiter, who one day in passing had mentioned he has a position in Flin Flon for a mining company doing Desktop Support.  My initial reply was "What the fuck's a Flin Flon". As it turns out, Flin Flon is named after Flintabetty Flonatin a character from a book called The Sunless City. However, that is another story all together. I digress.  I found myself getting a job offer that I would have been stupid to refuse.  A decent salary, paid vacation, RRSP contributions and an RESP for my kid. The kind of thing that most people in a family type situation, wouldn't think twice about. The main problem with this was; Flin Flon is about 2700 km north west of Toronto. So Far north in fact that in the summer we will have daylight until 11pm I'm told. I saw the northern lights up here, that was cool. 

     I ran this opportunity by my wonderful pillar of strength of a wife and she said something to the effect of "Well, whatever gets us out of my parents place an on our own again, even if it's in the middle of nowhere".
(I feel I should say that we moved in with her parents just before the baby arrived so she could have some help in the beginning... turns out she didn't need it) I told my recruiter that I got the OK from the boss on the whole Cross Canada relocation thing and something got set in motion. My employer (who I am keeping nameless for legal reasons) flew me out for a night to have a look at the place. I flew up here the first time not really knowing what to expect. Turns out it's actually quite charming. I was picked up at the "airport" by a man who is now my boss. I got taken on quick trip around town, and then back to my hotel. Where I shit you not, I was actually beaten by chicken wings. I will tell you that story later but just know that the Vic Inn in Flin Flon has a sauce that is close to a million Scovilles.  The following morning I met my other new boss and two of my coworkers who took me to breakfast and then we went and looked at where I'd be working. I liked it. I was used to the high stress of working in an office for so long that I forgot that not everywhere is like have nitro glycerine in you ass crack. Then, the moment you weaken your grip and stop being a tight ass everything goes to hell...  This place doesn't seem like that.  It's been two months now that I've been here and everyone I work with and the few friends I've made outside of work have really gone out of their way to make me feel welcomed here. The people here are great, the food here is lacking, and for the most part the weather has been dreadfully cold.  

     I came up here first to secure some kind of residence for my wife, son and I and make a few dollars before they got here.  This has worked out well. As of last week I found a place to call our own, that we can make noise in, walk around half naked in if we want to, but most importantly, be a family in. So, Flin Flon, you're kind of stuck with me for now, I hope we continue to get along. 


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