The biggest culture shock was not the language, the food, or the weather. The shock lie in three little words the co-working space manager said to me on that arid day: “We’re closing now.” Now that I looked up, the space had cleared out like a watering hole during dry season. It was only 5:00 P.M.

Over time, as I unburied myself from the glutenous hold of French pastries, I could see there was a completely different way of living. On the surface, the wages may be lower and the taxes higher, but beneath it all there were completely different markers of what makes a successful life.

In America, what you do is as tethered to your identity as your last name. In even the most buzzing parts of Montreal, you’d be lucky if it comes up after your third conversation with a new acquaintance. Whenever I asked, “so what do you do?” as a knee-jerk conversation driver, I felt icky afterwards — in all my Americana glory.

It was through those conversations that the material differences between socialism and capitalism became apparent to me (and even more so as i navigated the Canadian healthcare system as a new mom — more on that later). Between the two societies, the modern conveniences, cars, and homes are almost identical. But the “why” is different — life is simply not all about work.

It’s not that they don’t have work or they don’t like their work. They absolutely do, and they very well might. But it doesn’t define them as it’s come to do us here in America.

The constant thought about how to be happier where you work, where to work next, and how you’ll never work at a place like that again simply don’t live rent free in their heads like they do ours.

Could there be something for us to learn from our northern neighbors?

In 2006, The Devil Wears Prada (I watched the movie first, friends) tried to tell us that toiling for corner offices — or at least a better desk — will leave you with clothes that are to-die-for but a sinking feeling of total lifelessness.

In 2022’s transliteration, you might get a retweet from an industry vet, buy a home with your vested tech stock, or not be financially obligated to return that 3 a.m. impulse Instagram purchase, but it somehow still doesn’t feel like enough.

Career success has promised us happy, but it’s not giving, as the girls would say.

There’s got to be a better way? This little blog will look at the ways in which we work, why, and if there’s any sign of us releasing ourselves from the incessant performance chokehold we have ourselves in.

In the words of Miranda, “That’s All.”