Hey Aunt Becky,
My husband hates my pets. I have 5 smelly guinea pigs and he is always reminding me of how smelly and worthless they are. I love them, of course, so I am not sure how to find that perfect marital compromise with this situation. What is a lowly hog-keeper to do?
And yes, I know they are delicious food animals but we are not yet in *NEED* of eating them.
Okay, so I added the “yet” in there myself because it felt good, but I should tell you, my Internet friends, that my delicate reader is not in any danger of eating her darling guinea pigs. Which, I would say, are probably not edible. I mean, *shudder, shudder* I can’t eat meat that looks anything like what it did when it was alive, so there’s that, but moving away from MY neuroses.
This, Gentle Reader, is a tricky situation indeed.
Obviously, your husband knew about your pets when he married you in the same way that I knew that The Daver had a roaming colony of socks that follow him wherever he goes (Oh LOOK! They had TWINS!!), but that doesn’t mean that I have to like it or cherish it or worship it and the socks, one would hope, aren’t alive. So, he knew, but it annoys him, that’s fair.
What’s also fair is that your husband is also not, I presume, perfect either.
Something that I would probably remind him of when he is harping about your annoying guinea pigs. Providing that you are not making him take care of them, which is NOT fair, and that you ARE taking steps to reduce their…annoyingness (I truthfully find guinea pigs adorable, but I know nothing about their odor or what living with one is like. I asked Dave and he informed me that they are “cool pets.”).
I might, if I were you, keep a detailed list of things that you can refer back to when he prattles on about your precious pigs, not to be HURLED HORRIBLY at him, just as a gentle nudge like a soft puff of air to remind him that we all have annoying hobbies.
If you need proof of this, ask The Daver to do a guest post about Tate, the world’s SHITTIEST hedgehog.
Marriage and compromise, she says with gritted teeth, go hand in motherfucking hand.
Dear Aunt Becky:
I am a nursing student. But, hey, I actually want to be there. I could tell you long stories about mishaps as an office manager and my tearful story of being laid off, but…I’ll refrain. For now.
My question (even though you aren’t a fan of nursing any longer) is: LPN or RN? Should I stop in 10 months with my LPN, or go straight through and finish with my RN diploma?
I’m tired of teachers and professors and nursing school deans (aka salesmen) who, natch, want that rest of my poor poor wallet and student loans and would rather get the opinion of the ‘been there, done that’ crowd.
This would probably depend on where you’re living, but if you’re in the US, get thee your RN degree and DO NOT STOP WITH YOUR ASSOCIATES DEGREE IN NURSING (the associates degree, for those of you playing along at home, is the 2 year degree offered at many community colleges) if you can swing it. If at all possible, get your Bachelor’s degree (RN-BSN).
I know when I left the field, there was a lot of buzz about hospitals in my area hiring ONLY Bachelor’s prepared nurses. It will open up far more doors for you, although, to be fair, the associates prepared nurses I met had much better clinical experience that we did coming out of the bachelor’s programs. Many hospitals do offer programs for employees now, though, to turn their RN’s into RN-BSN’s, so keep that in mind as well.
Where I live, LPN’s mainly work in nursing homes and assisted living facilities, so if that’s what you want to do, then, that’s what you should get, but if you have the wherewithal to get through nursing school, DO IT.
And I happen to know a Super Overachieving Retired Nurse who used to TA for Organic, Inorganic, Biochemistry, Anatomy AND Physiology AND Pathophysiology* who lives in the computer and now goes by Aunt Becky, RN, BSN who’d be happy to help you out.
*Told you I was Super Becky, Overachiever
What, exactly, is dark matter?
How the fuck should I know?
Why does the rabbit have a mirror on a chain coming out it’s arse?
Wait, don’t you store your watch in your colon? Because I totally do.
I also store my car keys (well, one set of my car keys), one of my children (this varies), my iPhone, a wallet, my AmEx, a 12 pack of soda I picked up on sale for The Daver now that I can’t drink it any more *sobs*, a pack of mint gum to soothe my stomach, a pen I stole from a waitress at the Thai place down the street last week (the Pad Thai is phenomenal, you should try it!), a pack of salami just for kicks and some soap.
Because you never know when you’ll need soap. DO YOU?
As always, please submit your questions to my dwindling stack (I’m making a neat stack of questions to be answered in kind of order!!!)(note the added exclamation points for added emphasis) of questions through the link on the sidebar because I’m not clever to comb through the comments.
If you feel kindly enough and you heart me, I have some awards I’m up for on my side bar that I would be ever-so-honored if you voted for me. I feel like a douche asking, but you know, I’d feel like more of a douche NOT asking, so, you know, obviously I do NOT win at life any more.