My Traffic Life

I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by Juan Dela Cruz, and I am currently being trained for more by Uncle Sam. Writing since the age of 12. Blogging since 2001. I keep a notebook and a pen in my bag, on my bedside table, and inside the bathroom. Misses a lot. Sometimes even my own voice. Loves to laugh. Sometimes even at myself. I am a work in progress. My ultimate dream is to be a SAHM. That is, if I am bound to have that chance in this lifetime... and I am.

My Traffic Rules

Don't take my words personally. At times, not even literally. This is my journal. You're my reader. My spectator. Applaud. Yawp. Yawn. Smile. Frown. Rave. Rant. Or not. Neither can I see you from where I am standing nor can I hear you.

This is not my life. Maybe just a part of it. But this is me meandering through life. My emotions fluctuate. My opinion varies. If it's too hot in here and you can't take it, leave. If it's dull and too cold, go somewhere else for warmth. I won't wipe the frown on your brow.

My stories, unless stated otherwise, are mostly fictional. Fiction could be based on reality. Still, they are fiction. Don't own it. Don't live in it. It is what it is. Leave it.

Watch out for the traffic light. Follow the rules. Cruise.

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I was given a tour of an Animal Hospital in Great Neck (Long Island, NY) one time and I couldn't help but sympathize with the confined cats and dogs in their kennels. I was offered to take up veterinary medicine some two or three years ago. It was a tempting offer but I decided for a career growth rather than a career change.

While the machines were being introduced to me and the supplies (I wonder if they have horse supplies there) were being shown, I noticed a huge cat lying on a crate cage. I think they call her Bubbles. The poor cat was filled with air, I felt it when I pressed her body. They had to put it to sleep the next day.

The next thing I remember I was asked to administer some IV push injection through an existing peripheral line and poke a needle into a dog's skin. Felt like I jabbed a needle into my heart. Ahh! Pain. I think sometimes we get used to it.

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