Oct 25, 2008 21:24
Everything happens for a reason. When I was nine years old, trying to figure myself out, I was only setting myself up to have the job I have and to put myself on the verge of the most expensive decision I have ever had to make.
I wonder if people really know where their money goes when they buy pink ribbon/breast cancer items. I wonder if people really know what the fight against cancer is. I wonder if people realize that their donations pay my rent. The same people that won't wear fur pour thousands into the fight against cancer. I find that amusing.
When people go to work, they don't get to save half drowned mice. They don't get to cradle a monkey in their arms, they don't get to wipe some drool from their chin. When people go to work, they don't do what I do. I love my job, and it has created a fabulous future.
I have a team of professionals assuring me a quality of life.
I'm leaving behind misery; I'm searching for a home.
It's not hope. It's sanity.
::beamy out::
work,
tomorrow,
apartment,
doctors,
social commentary