We're waiting to hear from two foster parents who have puppies posted online, and we're making the rounds at the pounds. We visited a shelter yesterday, and I was overwhelmed with this thought: "I am doing the wrong thing with my life. Who gives a damn about shelving policies and classification schemes for "information packages" when there is such a huge yawning NEED right here. These dogs need help!
I knew I wasn't being entirely rational. What was I going to do --be a dog handler? Become an animal control person? Open a shelter of my own? If I was so moved, probably the best way I could help was to become a volunteer at the shelter, and make an occasional donation.
But nonetheless, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wanted to go to work every day knowing I was really making a difference. Working hard yes, but doing work that counted with whatever time I had left on this earth. Well, those are nice thoughts. I guess the first test of my sincerity would be whether or not I show up again at the shelter to volunteer. The nice girl we talked to said the girls and I could help out with socializing the animals.
I often have the same thought about finding work that helps people more directly. Yeah, yeah---librarians help people. They're performing a public service --blah, blah, blah. But the job is pretty removed, actually, from human suffering. I think the work of teachers is more important. But I don't have the right temperment. I learned that working as a substitute teacher for five months in Miami, in the spring of 1990. Social work and counseling ---too scary. I don't think I have the entrails to deal with people's problems so closely. So I don't know what to do.
In other news, I went to an estate sale on Sunday and I found a pair of tap dance shoes covered with purple glitter for a dollar! How could I pass them up? You just never know when you might need a pair of purple glittery tap dance shoes.