I’ve been super-busy and missed my OBGYN appointment in January. I called to reschedule my annual exam and my doctor is on maternity leave.
What? Is that allowed?
Fine, okay, whatever. I found another OBGYN and made an appointment.
The new doctor is 42. How did it happen that I have a doctor who is only five years older than me? I need a good 10 years to make me feel secure about my youth.
My new doctor is fab, though. Really. But the whole time we’re talking, I kept asking myself — How did this guy make good life decisions in the 1990s and 2000s? I basically took the easy road and coasted through my career. How did he make it through medical school and his residency when I could barely make it through the drive thru at Del Taco?
Dang it. I am lazy and unsuccessful.
Then I drove home and saw a pregnant woman with two kids who was waiting for the bus. She was seated on a bench with her kids. They were quietly staring out at the road. I’m pretty sure she was asking herself — Who are these people with cars? What did they do in life that I didn’t do?
And I am sure some totally stressed out man or woman in a minivan or Honda Odyssey drove past this woman waiting for the bus and thought — How did this woman get so lucky to have two beautiful and well-behaved kids? She’s just staring out into space and her kids are sitting quietly next to her on the bench. And she has another on the way? My kids are monsters. I walk them on leashes at the mall. How fabulous for her!
In short, we all compare ourselves to other people. And it’s stupid. We should stop. Life really only goes according to plan for unhappy people. They expect to be miserable and their expectations are met.
So that’s my zen job search lesson for the day. You are who you are. Accept it. Work to your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. Heck, even I’m trying to find peace with myself.
Except I came home from my OBGYN and opened up this lovely email message.
Oh, yeah, being a blogger is fabulous. Much better than your job. Hm.
I will stop comparing myself to normal people who don’t have bat-shit crazy readers right after you stop sending me these crazy email messages, people!
Forget everything I just wrote. I should have been a veterinarian.