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Embarrassingly, I have to admit that I had lived in a friend's garage for rather close to a Year, although it felt a lot longer than that, after being laid off from an Aerospace firm in Brampton, Ontario, Canada. I was living in a rather huge farm-style house on the edge of Brampton, with a full wall-sized rear window overlooking three levels of backyard, with a duck pond and small stream running at the bottom level. The driveway was a roundabout, archways over the front entrance. The house was a Bank repossession, and I was very lucky to get it. I lived there in absolute bliss for five years. Then, when the lay-offs happened, due to a take-over (what, in the Aerospace Industry you say? No, really...) a majestic six bedroom, three full bathroom, two fireplace house turned into a one room garage (albeit, still with a full walls' window when I opened the garage door). I had waited out the time of my "severance pay" fishing, camping and traveling the Southern States up through Alaska and back, basically just enjoying life before my next foray into the world of Technical Writing. That foray was going to take a little longer than I had thought.
I as twenty-nine, full of life, happy, and facing turning the dreaded "3-0" while not in the employ of any major companies when I got back from camping; which was a splendid four and a half month experience to remember for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I had no idea what life had in store for me when I got back. See, it turns out that my roommates were not depositing their rent checks into my account, and my bank balance was near nil when I returned, to an empty house, full of damage and broken glass and dreams.
At first, I was working contract jobs, two and three month contracts improving assorted Companies' Technical Documentations. Almost all the money was going to pay for the damages that the long-gone roommates had incurred on the house, and covering past due rents, while still trying to maintain the current rent, and the bills, which had not be paid as well, and which were all in the thousands of dollars. I could not keep up, I was soon faced with either moving to a smaller apartment, or bringing in new roommates. Well, the contracts dried up in the Greater Toronto Area, as did any part-time or full-time positions. Roommate applicants that showed up were in no way acceptable to me as people to share my home with. I decided to move home to Ottawa, where contracts were plentiful, according
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