The One Where I Love Dogs

When I went home today for lunch, I was thinking about how much I love my dogs: Muggsy with his cute face lying next to me, watching every move that I make; Fenway curled up on the blanket; Chubbs, getting up to go to the crate every day when he hears that first bite of apple because he knows that once I eat my apple I've eaten everything else on my plate except dessert and I'm not going to slip him anything else. I just love my dogs. I love most dogs, really.

And now it looks like dogs might be my escape from this hell that I call my office. Because as much as I love my dogs, that's how much I hate this job. I hate it that my boss can't make her own copies and treats me like an admin assistant. I hate it that the higher-ups are always trying to make us work with smarmy people. I hate it that my boss has no idea what she's doing and yet continues to throw me under the bus when she makes mistakes.

So I decided to go back to school starting in the fall to work toward a biology degree so I can work in animal behavior and/or wildlife conservation. I was accepted to do my undergrad work, and I recently found out that I will not have to get a second bachelors, just do some course work to get caught up on my science and math before working on my Masters or PhD. But in the meantime, what would I do? I was hoping to be able to string together enough part-time work that I could go to school full-time, but training has been slow going lately.

This weekend, I finally got the answer I was looking for. One of my fellow trainers, who recently quit because her dog walking business is too busy, is looking for another dog walker. It's pretty good money, and she thinks she can grow her business enough that I could be full-time by August, a great birthday present to give myself. I'm hoping that between walking, training and grooming, I can make a comparable amount to what I'm making now and then go to school full-time. Keep your fingers crossed. My love of dogs might just get me out of here!

The One With My Favorite Song

When I'm depressed, I've taken to listening to Pearl Jam over and over again, but last night, I decided to put in one of my favorite cds, Tom Petty's Greatest Hits. It's catchy and fun, and I was actually in a pretty good mood. When my favorite song, Mary Jane's Last Dance, came on, I was amazed at how easily it transfers my mood. The first guitar chords put a huge smile on my face, then the drums kick in, then that soothing voice and finally, the harmonica. This is just the greatest song ever.

I had just finished discussing with my therapist associations that you have with certain events. When you repress your feelings, the tiniest things can set you off -- a comment by your boss, a movie, etc. -- and make you a crying, depressed mess. But I guess the same is true of things with a positive association, like that song. I smile the second I hear it, without really knowing why. It came out in high school when I was also very, very depressed, but it's got that line, "Tired of screwing up, tired of going down, tired of myself, tired of this town," that I used to scream out from the front seat of my 1978 Oldsmobile every time I was upset. And then I did get out. I did everything I said I was going to do. So maybe that song then became a song of success. Every time Mon and I would get ready to go out in college (or get ready to think we were going out and then watch Friends all night), we'd play that song and dance around our apartment. I think I have a memory of that song from every phase in my life. I just love it.

And right now, it's good to have something that can always make me happy, no matter what.