I’m not so sure, Candle.

Yesterday’s entry regarding vet school was a “wonderful story”? I tend to think of it as pretty pathetic. I sold out for something I didn’t really want to do because of pressure, pride and miscalculation. So what if my Ex insisted he knew me better than I knew myself? Why the hell did I capitulate to please him? Because I was sure I’d fail out? Well there’s a fine and noble reason to go to veterinary school.

The Ex wanted a “trophy wife”, only his idea of a trophy wasn’t a blond bimbo but instead a degreed professional. I was just trying to get even by going along. My thoughts were that, when I got booted out of school, he’d have had a “failure” for wife instead of a “trophy”. I figured once he was humbled by my lack of ability, he’d let me go for vet tech licensing, just so I’d be doing *something* and not embarrass him any further.

Unfortunately, I underestimated myself. I made it through. And while being a veterinarian is a nice ego boost (people call you doctor and think you are smarter than you really are) it’s also a living hell of trying to live up to something I’m not.

Ironically, now that I’ve got the vet degree, I’m overqualified to do what I wanted to do originally – be a vet tech. I not only shot myself in the foot, but also then proceeded to amputate the appendage.

But enough pathos – I do know how lucky I am to be where I am today, I know that there were 27 applicants at my vet school who were rejected because I was accepted, and whose life dreams were deferred or crushed because they didn’t get in. I know that there were hundreds of applicants across the country that were rejected for each one of us that got in. While I am not doing traditional small animal practice, I am doing a job that I (usually) enjoy. And, to my own amusement and chagrin, I do get a charge out of people calling me “Dr. Salamander”.