They say the more things change, the more they stay the same. I disagree.
Things ‘round here are changing and nothing is staying the same.
I don’t really think I’m complaining, but aside from the physical location of my home, I barely recognize my life. My Dad had often marveled at the number of job changes I’ve had. For him (and maybe his generation) he went from 25 years in the military to 25 years at a private corporation. The idea of his daughter changing jobs, and even careers, especially at my “advanced” age was not easy for him. I think he thought I was chasing butterflies and in a way, maybe I have been. I’ve admittedly sort of followed a path career wise, and not cut a path. Somewhere along the way, I decided that when the thing in front of you seemed right, no matter how different, how out of character, how risky, how ‘not like me’ I gave it a shot. This is said to sound as though I was full of confidence and positive feelings, because I rarely if ever was. Somewhere in my genetic make-up was a healthy dose of ‘make the best of it’. So I did, or at least I tried to. Along the way I found some things I liked, some I definitely did not, and a few I utterly disliked. Also, I discovered some things I was really good at, and some things I really wasn’t good at. Lucky for me, I also discovered just a couple of things I genuinely loved.
Veterinary medicine was my first grown-up love, anesthesia was the first thing I was really damn good at, dog training and horse back riding swept me off my feet, regulatory writing helped me find a lost love of creative writing, (also, it showed me that I’m really bad at telling people what they want to hear and not just what I think.)
Talking to a friend this afternoon, I had the realization that if all the mistakes I’ve made in my life got me where I am today - I am not so sure I can even call them mistakes. In particular, if all the bad relationships I’ve had got me to the one where I’m finally with the guy that when I call him on a random Tuesday afternoon and tell him I’m bringing home a three-legged foster dog that needs some rehab and some love responds with “I can’t wait to meet him” and not a list (even if it is legitimate) of why I shouldn’t do it. I think I’ll just be grateful for those missteps.
I don’t know that I fully recognize my life from the outside, but from the inside, it feels better, and more like home than anything in years past. Things, they are not easy these days, money is tight, loved ones are on borrowed time, cars are getting old, debt isn’t shrinking, and the lottery is looking more and more like a viable retirement plan, but, I sent marshmallow shooters to friends a few weeks ago, and bought 2 for the house. From now on, all arguments will be solved via marshmallow war.
Take that lousy economy, stuck up doctors, crappy long war, “mosque” protests, still high unemployment rate, and mounting school debt.
I'm packing marshmellows and I know how to use them.
*love you Daisy.