Country Mouse gives up
a reasonable facsimile of
for the greater good.
What I Did This Summer.
I took a little detour this summer. I began going to school. I've been researching and considering and planning for a long time. And I made a decision.
A couple years ago I was committed to massage therapy school, but at the eleventh hour I had to take a sharp left turn and quickly come up with a job that offered benefits. I landed at the pharmacy. Which I like very much.
However . . .
Okay, so here's my ego talking. My job is entry level. Yes, there's a little more finesse in my position than there is in, say, flipping burgers. (Although, to be fair, almost any job has its challenges and a person is either equipped to handle those challenges or learns how. Or doesn't learn and sucks at his job. I do not suck.) I'm not above my job. But I am capable of more.
And, to be completely honest, I would like to have some sort of title or job description that sounds a little less assistanty and a little more--I'm just going to say it--important.
How's that for ego?
So. I did the research and started ticking off the handful of pre-reqs I needed to qualify for a two year program to become a:
(drum roll, please)
Diagnostic Ultrasound Technician!
Doesn't that sound all Technical and Important and Responsible and Respectable???
Also--ultrasound techs make decent money. And that is the true heart of the matter. My sweet hubby who has taken care of my financial needs for my entire adult life is not able to provide for us like he used to. His disability money is waning and I don't yet know when it will cease, but when it does, ladies and gentlemen, it will be up to me to take care of us.
So. This summer, in addition to working more hours than usual, helping my daughter plan and execute her wedding, babysitting the grand kids, and, of course, the day-to-day with my own family and home, I was, in my spare time, taking a math course [*cough* 4.0 *cough*]
And then I had to pause. And think. And what I was thinking was that the hours of class time, homework time and commute time add up to 20 hours per week--tacked onto the 24+ hours a week of my regular job. And that's just with one class. That's a lot of time away from my family.
My youngest is 14 and is just beginning his high school years. It felt fervently unfair to be planning my own course of 4 years of abandoning my family when this is the time, both educationally and emotionally, he needs me the most.
So. Short story long, I withdrew from the chemistry class I was set to begin this month. And, therefore, withdrew from my future plans.
I don't know what we're going to do in the future, but I do know things will work out. They always do. For now I'm going to be here. At home. Raising my son. With no regrets.
And I'm going to be at my job. Where I am an assistant. Entry level. Also with no regrets. I'm good at my job. And there is no shame at being good at one's job. Ever. No matter how entry level it is. (Well, maybe if one is a hitman or a drug dealer or a prostitute, then *maybe* there would be some shame in being good at one's job . . . )
Besides being home and teaching my last child and rocking the pharmacy flunky job, I'll also finish the giant stuffed octopus I'm making for my grand kids. And I'm going to design the craft room I am getting at long last! But I probably won't be learning Portuguese . . .