The (rather cute) guy in green operating theatre uniform standing at the doorway of the examination room holding the sheltie today?

I WANT HIS JOB.

Glad Richie doesn't seem to hold a grudge despite my having betrayed his confidence in me. He toddled into my room to nap on my knapsack, only to find himself swept up and pushed into the pet carrier. My heart nearly broke with his plaintive meows and useless head bangings against the grills. Anyway, I'm sure the guy I saw wasn't a vet, but a vet's assistant. In other words, a nurse. How do you get a job like that?! And I've absolutely no idea what qualifications it requires... Hmmm...

Sometimes I dislike being a girl. Feel like reaching out from within and shaking myself by the collar, or yelling (or even shrieking) at myself, for all the stupid things I'm guilty of. Wonder if sanity is but a temporary delusion. Eurgh.