I hate my life

When I was growing up my father used to tell me that if I didn't stay in school I'd end up with a job "wiping other people's butts for a living." He always put that extra emphasis on the word "butts". He didn't say it so much as fired it at me like a bullet. Of course, I laughed at him. I wasn't an especially gullible child. I knew there was no way any such job could possibly exist. Why would anyone pay to have some one else wipe their ass? They wouldn't, right? This was an obvious control tactic adults exercised over children. This was just like that old line that went "Be good or Santa Claus will give all your toys to cell block pedophiles and the Easter bunny will be kidnapped by satanic vivisectionists". Had to be.

So after I earned my two year degree I decided to take a semester off. After that semester I decided to take another. Sometime after that I found myself working in a hospital scrubbing shit off the nutsack of a seventy-eight year old renal patient as I breathed in air so rife with the man's skin dandruff that I could not see whether or not the old fucker was getting a hard on (and I sure as hell wasn't going to feel) when I realized that seven years had seeped out of me like hot piss running down my leg.

It's not fair when you think about it. I went to college. For two whole years. And I still ended up here. Now I'm back in college and, Dad, I'm wondering, when you said "stay in school" did you mean, like, forever?