The bitch

There is something impossibly annoying about the way my uncle's wife... errr... my aunt stares at me whenever I talk about anything I like to do or do at all. Actually, annoying is not the right word, but I can't find a better one. Maybe prejudicial. She just gets this artificially polite, puzzled look on her face and you can see she's tuned you out and thinks you are crazy and thinks you should be told how to live your life and should be overseen by someone like her - and you should be hit over the head, hard, whenever you even think about trying to stray from the path she planned out for you till you die.

And there is something even more annoying, hurtful, cold and just plain uncaring in her eyes when she tells you what she thinks you should be doing. Every time we meet sher asks me why I don't do this or that. She always comes up with ideas that never appealed to me, and of course I don't have any abilities to do.

• She asks me why don't I study to become a doctor. I see dead people, I run screaming. (No pun intended.) I see wounds, I faint. (Ok, so not a paper cut, but oozing lots of blood and maybe see bones... oh gods, please no.)
• She wants me to work with numbers. I do not have the affinity, and I fucked up every math test because I was frikkin scatter-brained and added up the wrong lot. So no, I am not friends with numbers.
• Then, she wants me to be a scribe/typist whatever. As in work in the law department as a woman typing away stuff for a living. They earn as much as the cleaning lady, work from dusk till dawn and after a year or two they can join a course where they'll be taught some stuff about a law and be a law secretary. As in the only available advancement, to earn more than a cleaning lady is to learn the law and all the clauses. I didn't study to become a lawyer because of my memory. I remember small details, not the bigger stuff. That and because when in a tight spot I go blank and I can't remember anything.

She tells me I should have learnt a profession. I learnt 3. It's not my fault the crisis hit and people are let go and hardly anybody needs people of my profession. During the boom they did. Nowadays they hardly hire anybody.

But alas, I dunno why she can't come up with something that needs good English, creativity and deft fingers and someone with a good planning ability and a clear, logical head. Because those are my stronger points. I'm damn good in planning, I come up with new and creative solutions, my English is pretty damn good and I am very good with my hands. (No, no pun intended. But if you have seen the stuff I can crochet, model from clay, assemble from beads, you know what I mean.)

Anyway, my safest bet so far was secretary/IT helpdesk/customer service. That's what I can do, and I cannot fathom why she can't understand this.

I have NO idea why this bitch from the ninth level of hell can't understand that I'm not her toy to amuse herself with, I won't let her live my life and for the love of any god, I know what I can and can't do, I wish she would realize I'm not made from hot wax that she can mold to her own image, godsdamnit. I'm my own person and she WON'T get her hands on my life.

I want to find a job much, much more than she thinks I do, and I want to find a job I won't feel like killing myself during every second of it. I want a job where I do what I know how to do and I just don't want to feel so miserable because I have no idea what I should be doing.

I just wish I could find myself a job and tell her where to shove it, because at this point if I tell her to shut up my folks will get the wrong idea and then I'll be told not to bite the hand that feeds me and I just can't give up my free will and my spirit like that. I'm me, godsdamnit and not an instrument for others to live out their lives again!