My boyfriend likes to point out that men don't think like women. Every time I project my own feelings onto him he is sure to tell me that I can't assume things about his logic, as my way of thinking differs from his. Fair enough; I'll accept his premise. However, (in my defense) I'd like to point out that the opposite is true. Women think differently than men.
It's true, women are more emotional than men. Given our hormonal cycle, it's to be expected, correct? So why, then, do men become upset when women become (as they say) "irrational?" Being emotional and being irrational are two different things. I think of myself as the type of individual who thinks things through. I look at things from every angle and I tend to make decisions only after careful deliberation. Would an irrational person do that? Then again, I also have days where everything makes me cry, for no apparent reason, and usually by the end of those days, I'm a convulsing, hysterical mess. But I'm a woman and "all women are crazy" as my male friends say, so why are they always so surprised when the calm, composed woman falls to the wayside and the emotional, passionate one bursts forth?
If I have to put up with football every Sunday (complete with men yelling, drinking, belching, etc.) and do so graciously, why can't he put up with one or two days of me whimpering like a lost, lonely puppy? He's going to be a doctor, for God's sake... if he can't handle me, perhaps he should choose another profession, pronto!
Friday, February 25, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Pausing to think..
It's been a considerably long time since I've written anything here, not for lack of trying. But life tends to get in its own way sometimes and I've been keeping myself so busy that I haven't had the opportunity to sit down and write... for pleasure, that is. Lord knows I've been writing enough professionally.
In November, I was offered a promotion to editor of one of my company's newspapers, which I happily accepted. Though I didn't officially start in that capacity until January, I did spend the end of November and the whole of December becoming familiar with the town by editing the paper on production day. When I took over in January, I immediately implemented some changes that (in my humble opinion) have made it an even better product than before. I still have my work cut out for me, however and the work has been keeping me going at a frenetic pace. One day I hope to slow it down, but for now I suppose I'm okay with it.
This week, Doc and I have been dog/house-sitting for some friends in a neighboring town who have traveled to Florida. I first met their Lab, Smokey, last month and fell instantly in love. In jest, I told his people if they ever decided to go away on vacation and were in need of a dog sitter, I'd happily oblige. Earlier this month, Smokey's Mom approached me to ask if I was still willing. While I was ready to accept her proposal on the spot, the sheer size of the dog gave me pause: He's nearly 130 pounds of sheer muscle. Despite his size, Smokey has turned out to be a gentle giant; one of the best behaved dogs I've ever met. I'm having a blast.
Puppy love aside, I'm also having a great time "living" with Doc. Having him around 24/7 makes me long for the future. Next month, he'll find out his residency placement and I'm waiting with baited breath to learn his (read: our) fate. Last night as I was falling asleep, I recall him saying something to the effect of: "If you move in with me..." or "If we move in together..." The rest of the clause isn't all that important; what I'm focusing on is those five or six words. That indicates some kind of commitment, right?
So that's where I'm at... that's the last three months of my life in a nutshell.
In November, I was offered a promotion to editor of one of my company's newspapers, which I happily accepted. Though I didn't officially start in that capacity until January, I did spend the end of November and the whole of December becoming familiar with the town by editing the paper on production day. When I took over in January, I immediately implemented some changes that (in my humble opinion) have made it an even better product than before. I still have my work cut out for me, however and the work has been keeping me going at a frenetic pace. One day I hope to slow it down, but for now I suppose I'm okay with it.
This week, Doc and I have been dog/house-sitting for some friends in a neighboring town who have traveled to Florida. I first met their Lab, Smokey, last month and fell instantly in love. In jest, I told his people if they ever decided to go away on vacation and were in need of a dog sitter, I'd happily oblige. Earlier this month, Smokey's Mom approached me to ask if I was still willing. While I was ready to accept her proposal on the spot, the sheer size of the dog gave me pause: He's nearly 130 pounds of sheer muscle. Despite his size, Smokey has turned out to be a gentle giant; one of the best behaved dogs I've ever met. I'm having a blast.
Puppy love aside, I'm also having a great time "living" with Doc. Having him around 24/7 makes me long for the future. Next month, he'll find out his residency placement and I'm waiting with baited breath to learn his (read: our) fate. Last night as I was falling asleep, I recall him saying something to the effect of: "If you move in with me..." or "If we move in together..." The rest of the clause isn't all that important; what I'm focusing on is those five or six words. That indicates some kind of commitment, right?
So that's where I'm at... that's the last three months of my life in a nutshell.
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