A career or The career

Memes inspire me. I find life hilarious. In a very good context, mind you. They just show us that no one’s alone in any situation. There are people who’ve experienced the same and have managed to present it in such a funny way, from exactly that angle… And it’s mostly things most of us find challenging. Memes just lift me up. I see the bright side of life.

This one inspired talking about a career. Get this for a career.

I never knew exactly why I studied what I studied. Come to think of it just now, I know exactly why I studied what I studied and it most certainly wasn’t for my career. I had no idea where I was heading and I loved it just like that. Career, yes, sure, why not, if any notable and logically connected lapses of time occur, like holding a steady job for at least 2 years, all the better for it. But I wasn’t pursuing it. Because I haven’t decided what I want to pursue. With passion.

My subsequent career definitely never envisioned being a carer. Never, ever was that going to happen. No way, no how. I’m not cut out for that.

But…

It did happen. It was: “No way!” And no indeed, I am not cut out for that. The greatest pride I feel for myself is that I went for it. I said to myself: “Fuck it! What’s the worse that can happen?”

That must have been me being optimistic since I was not aware where I was going, what I would be doing, and what would it look like. My motivation was: a trip to England- check, see and feel differently- check, go check out what’s out there, it’s not the end of the line, just another experience- check!

Another fact I knew was that I was going to care for the elderly. Wow! Me! Never. I’m not a people person. And I am when I want to be. Might be true for most of us anyway.

But I’m direct, like there’s no time to waste. And there it is. The first red flag that I shouldn’t be around the elderly. They shouldn’t have let me. But they did. And I didn’t embrace it, is the thing. Although, I reveled in the learning.

To sum up, I learned what we turn into when we’re between 80 and 100 years old. Still fun and games. It’s beautiful if we make it beautiful. At any age.

I wasn’t all that bad. I think I made them laugh, at least. Some will definitely remember me. For example, the beautiful, fragile, so, so fragile, like you could carry-her-in-your-arms tiny and with the voice to accompany that, Mrs. A was class. She was/is awesome! I’m not sure if she’s still alive. I had a great time and spent a lot of months with her so we got to know each other.

Well, one morning I was filling up a bathtub, as every morning, but this morning I forgot about it and only found out when the part-time cleaner started screaming. Water was raining down from the wooden bathroom floor to the ground floor. Over the piano. Panic like you wouldn’t believe it. I pulled out the bath plug and the water started draining. The fluffy carpeted floor was soaked. Water everywhere. The above-mentioned cleaner and the resident cleaner were having themselves a discussion about who fucked up, who’s to blame, and whose job it is to clean that mess up. The resident one was clear that it should be me. It was going to be anyway. I already had it under control. First, call Mrs. A and inform her of new experiences in her immensely rich life, in all and any sense, that she never would have imagined could happen. I got rags, buckets. Summoned the Handyman of the House. We had to get the humidifier to suck moisture for nights and days. A big machine downstairs. And that industrial vacuum cleaner that sucks water. Sucking the water out of there was the primary concern. By any means.

And I was in the clear, just like that. I did all the apologizing because I was genuinely sorry, but Mrs. A waived it off. As in: Shit happens. It’s not nice when it happens. But if it’s nice, it’s never shit.

That’s just story 1. To be continued…