When I think about growing up in a lower middle class neighborhood, I keep coming back to the amazing sacrifices that my Mom made for us. We were fortunate; we had a home, actually, a very nice home for the neighborhood we were in. (Looking back it really wasn’t that bad of a neighborhood—Today it’s totally different.) We had food on the table. When we went anywhere my mom made sure we were clean and pressed. We were able to attend the same local Catholic school my mom attended as a child. My mom did her best to make sure we had everything we needed, from the material to the emotional. And she did an fantastic job. She's one of my true real life heroes.
For all of this to happen, my Mom sacrificed untold amounts. She worked constantly, sometimes two or three jobs at a time. None of the jobs were anything she actually enjoyed. Managing a cosmetics counter, working at a modeling agency as a scout (they actually sent my HOT mom to a private all boys high school once – I remember her saying it was one of the most degrading moments of her life.), and her least favorite, bill collector. I remember her just having to force herself to go. She didn’t complain much, but I knew she hated it. She was doing what she had to do to provide for us.
Fast forward 20 years. I’m happy to say she has a job she enjoys, and she’s very good at it. She makes great money, and doesn’t dread getting up for work in the morning. She has the best work ethic of any person I know.
I’m grateful… I’m SO grateful… For EVERYTHING she’s done for me, my younger brother, and my family.
Here’s where things get a little…sticky.
In the past my Mom has expressed her displeasure with me working an
Here’s where the problem lies. I don’t want to dispatch. I want to work on the road. Maybe that’s not clear enough. I DO NOT WANT TO DISPATCH. I WANT TO WORK ON THE ROAD. *Stomps her feet for good measure* If She Who Rules has taught me anything, it’s how to throw a very impressive tantrum.
I realize that I probably sound like a spoiled brat… I get that. After all, I’ve been out of work for awhile, and I just found this job, and it pays halfway decently, and I should be grateful I have a job and just shut my mouth and do it to the best of my ability.
The problem is that my heart and soul is in
Okay, let’s go back to Mom telling me that God was telling me I wasn’t meant to be an EMT.
In the last week I’ve had two calls for interviews at Ambulance companies. One is local company and would result in me doing transfers all day long. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. I’m okay with this, but I’d rather work an ABC shift (24 on, 48 off). The other is for a company that does primary
Looks like God thinks maybe I’m supposed to work in
My mom thinks I’m being selfish by wanting to have a job where I LOVE to get up in the morning. Her reasoning is that “Not everyone gets to LOVE their job.” And I know that’s her past speaking, and she has a point. Not everyone does get to do a job they love. But my point is, if you have the opportunity, why wouldn’t you jump on it? As long as I’m not putting a financial burden on my family by accepting the position, why shouldn’t I do it? I'm married, my Mr EpiJunky has a good job, a job he LOVES, and he makes good money doing it. I wouldn't be taking a pay cut by accepting this job.
My mind is made up.
I’ll let you know how the interview goes.
Now... what to tell mom?