Cecilia
I finished high school at age 17, enrolled in college and got an A.S. in Health Sciences--worked for a dentist for one year...and then I joined the Army at age 21, where I met the Cro-Magnon ex-spouse (who's probably an okay guy, but I knew I was in deep shit when he turned around after our wedding and said "now I've got PAPERS on you!!" and accused me of being "too independent"). Okay, catching breath at world-class run-on sentence...whew!
That union was less than blissful and lasted long enough to produce my
darling offspring. Then I busted ass as a struggling, single mother
earning crap wages for the better part of 20 years. I dated too few
decent guys, too many creeps, and then took a five-year sabbatical from
the whole relationship thing...and whaddaya know? My employment
situation improved (due, in my opinion, to the extra energy I'd once
expended on uh...ahem...lost causes..)
I am now a licensed veterinary technician for an Animal E.R. and see
what real suffering is (as opposed to the self-inflicted variety of the
Woe Is Me populace). It's not as depressing as it might sound; there is
plenty of good that is done where I work. Injured pets heal, sick ones
recover, and even if we can't save a patient, it's noble thing to be
able to ease the pain and soothe the fear when that's what is needed
more than anything else.
Animals are great patients for the most part. It's a matter of learning
how to listen to something aside from words to figure out what hurts. I
have developed a pretty keen sense of character judgment as a result and
can often tell when something's just not quite kosher. I wish I'd had
this ability a long time ago.
In my journaling I have written a number of observations I've developed
over the years (and yes, I make my fair share of typically good-natured
digs at men...go figure...for example, is it hard-wired into the Y
chromosome to make most men believe that every erection is his last and
thus MUST be exploited? But wait! There are Stupid Women Tricks too!)
I have often joked that I am destined to become a little old woman with
too many cats...that is, if my kids ever move out. Well, that's not
completely true. I am in fact, moving away from my kids in about six
weeks--weird, ain't it?
Hmmm, so this is just a rambling bit of who I am--someone to be reckoned
with, no ass-kisser here. I do have a pretty decent heart, I love my
family, I'm geeky but cool (my kids don't pretend like they don't know
me in public). I can wrestle a Rottweiller to the floor if I have to but
I can bottle-feed a kitten too.
And perhaps what's also a damned good sign that I'm not bitter is that I
held out--not for the sake of holding out--but I was happier alone than
with someone I couldn't stand...and lo and behold: I have a relationship
with someone who relishes my unique style of bitchiness.
Life is cool.
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
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