The other day I was tired, wrung out, rode hard and put away wet. It was, if you must know, a rough day. But exhilarating. I mean, I wrote nearly 7,000 words, dudes! That’s a lot for one sit down. And I’m pretty sure most of them will turn out to be usable. Unless I decide to go in a different direction because, well, I’m still feeling pretty iffy about the plot at that point. Might go either way.
So. Good day. Feeling tired, but happy.
Then, into the house strolled She Who Must Be Having The Last Word. I made the mistake of asking her how her day was. Not bad, she told me. A little busy. She’d seen 25 patients in the office, delivered two babies and performed a procedure in the office called a colposcopy. Not bad, although she did get some results that showed one of her patients probably had cervical cancer, so she had to deliver that news.
She asked me how my day was and I mumbled something mumblemumble words mumble. Hey, look what I made for dinner!
Living with a doctor can really do some severe damage to your self esteem, let me tell you.
In her day that was a “little busy,” she brought two lives into the world, possibly saved a woman’s life by catching her cancer early, performed a medical procedure that will make another woman’s life immeasurably better, and still had time to talk to and help 25 other women.
Hey, I ate lunch before 3 pm! And actually had a plan for dinner that I followed through on! And I wrote some.
Not really on the same level, you know?
And the sad thing is, she isn’t the type to actively parade how much she does in front of my face. It’s not like she’s trying to show off how much she does, how hard she works, what wonders she performs. I mean, were she to do that, things could get substantially worse, I’m thinking.
It’s rather like Freelancer Fred, the poor fellow is the subject of another one of those annoying internet memes. Oddly similar to my life, though. Or it would be if I weren’t married to She Who Must Be Never Pictured.
Right down to the dog.
Anyway, this sort of disparity could really get me down. Well, it could if I hadn’t decided long ago that these are the sorts of things I’ve got to, for the most part, ignore completely. I mean, when she started her first year in an internship, during which she’s technically still learning how to be a doctor, her first-year salary was more than mine and I was at the top of my pay grade in the state employee position I held. By a significant amount.
All of which led to me staying home with the young dudes. Not like we’d miss that salary much.
Here’s the takeaway on this: The only person you need to compete with is yourself. Do your job, be it fathering or business or tire changing, and do it as best as you possibly can. And then get better at it. You compete with you. Don’t worry about trying to see how you hold up next to anyone else.
That way lies madness. Or at least severely irked.
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