Soliloquies Anthology 30.1

By Saskia Wodarczak

Ladies and gentlemen, I am in crisis. Well, maybe not a crisis, but certainly quite a conundrum. I have waited five years to graduate university. I’ve vented to friends, family, the rabbits at Jericho Beach in Vancouver, yet as graduation creeps closer and closer like Gollum in Lord of the Rings, I find myself at a loss. 

What if I don’t get a job? Why have I received a rejection from a job at HarperCollins when they are actively recruiting? Did they not think that I could assist in editing romance novels – am I not a romantic enough individual to work at Harlequin? Why am I being ghosted by companies? I feel more ghosted than I ever have, including that brief period a couple years ago when I thought dating apps were a good idea (that was the worst idea I’ve ever had in my entire life and I do not wish those apps upon anyone). 

In a country where the job market is already in shambles, being fresh out of university (or, in my current case, in that brutal final semester where the only thing on my mind is applying for jobs and making sure I have enough money to purchase groceries), is daunting. While my mind can’t thoroughly process this, I can certainly write about it. 

So thus, I am venting to you, the reader – I am sure the above mentioned audiences have heard enough out of me. 

Yes, even the rabbits. 

Especially the rabbits. 

You are now my new audience. 

I hope to pursue a career in publishing, which, should I wish to remain in Canada, will likely be in Toronto – which is fine by me. This career path sparked my interest when I watched The Proposal for the first time. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be Margaret Tate (or Sandra Bullock, for that matter), working at the top of the ladder in publishing, wearing those beautifully tailored outfits and heels? That, along with being the friend who edited people’s essays, when their request was to only read it, morphed into the dream career that I am so very keen on. While Ontario itself is quite flat (which, for someone from B.C., was a shock when I first moved there), I have recently found myself daydreaming of Roncesvalles and my favourite latte at a coffee shop there. My largest network of friends is in Ontario. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for pasta at Vivoli celebrating various birthdays with my friends in Toronto…

And then, as I stare at a blank page on which I am to write my character persona for my English class, I think about how much I wish I could’ve pursued optometry like I had originally planned. It’s just that math, science and I? We aren’t the best of friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved biology class. I adored dissecting that preserved cow’s eye in my grade 8 science class with Mme Yang. I loved seeing how pearly and iridescently blue the cornea of that eye was, and carefully, methodically labelling each part of the eye: the sclera, ciliary body, the retina, to name a few. It was fun to watch one of the girls in the class chase one of the guys around the classroom threatening to douse him with what remained of the conjunctiva and the Vitreous body. 

Hell, I copiously studied the various functions of the parts of the eye throughout the summer. I went to university fairs to determine where I could do my undergrad in order to pursue optometry. However, grade 11 physics arrived and I realized that I wasn’t cut out for the sciences. Grade 11 chemistry further proved this, even though I had such a lovely teacher, Ms. Asmani, who tirelessly walked me through Avogadro’s number and chemical bonds more times than I’d care to admit. Maths and Sciences simply are not for me. 

I could go on forever about this – these thoughts that have been plaguing my mind – however, to tie a lovely bow on this article, I will simply say this more so as an affirmation to myself: I believe I am well-equipped for the career I hope to pursue. I sit here, at ten thirty at night on February 6, 2026, feeling this fugue take minor shape as I write it. Maybe I ought to have pursued piano… I was quite good at the piano.

Nevertheless, I am sure there will always be a small part of me that, as much as I look forward to editing manuscripts with my red pen, dreams of having my own white coat like the one my optometrist in Vancouver has. 

Oh well. Graduation is in June, and I need to go apply for more jobs.