The Third.....um....jobs??? Dreams? Dogs??? Random.

See? I am trying, even though nothing of any note happened today, even though nothing sparked any deep rooted feelings, memories or peeves....I am here...writing, well, not writing much as it turns out.

So, today, the topic is......How to start a topic.

Like breaking the ice at a party with people you don't know. What do you ask? What is it you want to know about them, or them you? A recently rediscovered friend of mine (thanks, Facebook) who I had not seen for over, well, let's be nice and say, 25 years, said to me a couple of months ago how he hated it when the first thing people asked each other was "so, what do you do?" Illustrating the fact that, like it or not, this is a class based society where what you do DOES show, to a certain extent, who you are. At least to this stranger's eyes.

Before he'd even said it I had been thinking that there was something refreshing about the couple of hours we'd spent together, chatting in the coffee shop, like old friends, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then I realized that it was because he had NOT asked me, once, what I did with my days. Just various questions about me. Books, movies, hobbies etc.

He understands that where we spend our days does not, definitively, define who we are. Sometimes we work the job because that's what we ended up being handed, not out of any great love or need to do what we do, some people work to live, not live to work.

Having grown up with a workaholic father, and having dating a workaholic for many years as a result, it was refreshing to talk to someone who wasn't obsessed with what he, or anyone else for that matter, does for a living.

I am a dog groomer. I own my own business. Do I love dogs? You bet. Did I dream of nothing but grooming them for the rest of my life when I was a small girl? Nope. I dreamed of being an actor, a private investigator, an entertainer, a horse trainer, being married to Simon Le Bon, or Roger Taylor, or Scott Baio..... The job fell in my lap when I needed it, so I took it. Then the business fell in my lap at a good time, so I took that too.

Am I fulfilled in my 'chosen' career? Eh. It pays the bills, sometimes. Do I wake up each morning champing at the bit to get to work....some days, sure, others? Nope. Does it beat an office job (of which I have had my share)? Hands down, any day. But it has it's headaches, believe you me. People who assume it's a Mickey Mouse job, 'playing with dogs all day', who never think of the biters, the squirmers, the jumpers, the head tossers, the fact that we have very sharp scissors around eyes, and paws, and butts all day hoping desperately that they won't move now or else we have some unpleasant news for the owner.

The fact that, amazingly enough, groomers seem to have all sorts of powers that, in fact, we do not have. The ability, for example, to give a dog warts, or a urinary tract infection, or arthritis. We get accused of 'ruining' a dog's character because the owner never taught it to be handled for anything other then a pat now and again, and is then shocked when the dog gets a bad 'report card' for being awkward for it's nail trim, or bath, or face trim.

I could rant for hours. But I am tired, I need some down time. I am not going to get it, but I need it all the same. I shall rant more later, I am just happy that I didn't let my lazy side get the better of me, it would have been so much easier to have not written anything at all....

Until next time. In Harmony

IrishRed