What’s in My Name

“You have the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen!“ She says. I think, oh god, please don’t let her make a stupid joke about how I should have been a doctor with handwriting like that.

A Doctor, yeah that wasn’t going to happen. Not a nurse, not even a dentist, lawyer or scholarly professor.

I wasn’t particularly good at studying or school work or paying attention… or doing, well, anything I was supposed to, so I pretty much gave up on any dreams of being more than… well… me.

And my signature, my name. Some days I can hardly read it.

“You know what they say about people with bad handwriting, “she snarls. I think of weird jokes comparing shoe sizes to penises. “They say people with bad handwriting don’t have respect for what they are writing. I don’t believe it” – she continues despite the fact that I clearly don’t care. “Cause look at all those doctors with bad handwriting! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN A DOCTOR WITH THAT HANDWRITING!”

Yes, that’s it.