I’m Not Getting Any Younger

My older brother (ten years older) and I cruised down the streets of Edinburg at night, after dropping off pizza for his family. In tow, we have our own large Spinach Alfredo pizza plus two orders of spicy chicken strips from Papa John’s. After making one more stop to buy two large bags of ice for our mother, our destination, we drive  down University. We turn on 18th and sail down toward home.

Friday night’s are normally spent with friends. This past weekend, I spent it alone with my family as we made final preparations for my niece’s Quinceañera the following day.

He then speaks, “So what’s going on with you and Jeanna anyway?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, already knowing where this is leading.

“Are you two going to get married?”

There are plans, but plans are all we can afford at the moment. Graduating college doesn’t promise a career. With an English degree I have about two choices in the Valley – write for the blood sucking, conservative, unreliable and bias newspaper called The Monitor, or teaching English. None of these sound the least bit appealing and the latter means more school for me, leading me to probably owe money in the process, which doesn’t sound attractive at all.

Jyg is also having a dilly with a career. At the moment, she’s working a dead-end job that’s sucking the very life from her bones. Meanwhile, she’s putting into motion of completing her teacher certification – if only that part of a teaching career wasn’t necessary, I might have given in ages ago.

But I’m the baby of the family, the last to get married and the last to spawn children. And I want both. And I’m working toward both. While I do want to teach some day, I don’t want to teach kids. Higher education, maybe, but not kids. Not in Texas, anyway. There’s nothing educational about Texas education.

So I’m on edge with this one. My family’s eyes are on me, expectantly awaiting that great leap that I am ready for emotionally, just not financially. And I’m not getting any younger, so I’m doing my best to get the ball rolling. I just wish things can fall into place, and I can leave behind a few parts of me that I am not proud of, or in love with.

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