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Tell you what, if ever you stumble into Southern Germany, the drinks will be on me and we can have a dick-measuring contest on whose life is more farcical.
Your family cares about you. Be glad.
Apart from all that, what is your family's opinion on you moving to Scotland?
I sense a tale waiting to be told. Sure, Germany is far too close for comfort for the British, ancestral memory and all that. I suppose you can subsidize the alcoholism and I'll get the sauerkraut. I think both of us could use the drink, if not the wiener.
Oh I certainly am touched, my family is great, not that it stops me from muttering about the way their care and concern manifests on occasion. I'm only mildly exasperated; I'm no lemon or old beater that I need an enthusiastic salesperson or a dozen trying to sell me off to the highest bidder, but eh, enough stress might bring about the male pattern baldness earlier than expected and it's always good to have a backup.
My parents never wanted me to move abroad, and were vocal about it. To them, an ideal ending would be me taking up my dad's reins as a surgeon, or at least marrying a woman just regaining her sanity after a gyne MS, so that his massive clientele and skills can be handed down to someone who needs them for more than writing the odd examination or two. Well, they've got my younger brother still in the oven, and while I doubt he's insane enough to take up gyne either, I'd bet decent money he'll be getting married off eventually, preferably to a surgeon. He's far more handsome, but simply doesn't give a single fuck about the fairer sex. Not gay either, he ignores the horny fucks sliding into his DMs, and those include one of his male professors from med school. I suppose he'll just shrug and bear it. I'm deeply jealous, that's a level of sanity that I can never aspire to.
But that's all the ill I can speak about my parents. They've been supportive of my own ambitions, even if it means I'm flying the coop. The worst they've done is occasionally argue and try and dangle carrots before me, never the stick. They have valid arguments, both emotional and practical, but so do I. I don't think I'd ever be happy in India, I fit in much better abroad.
Right now, they're feeling the same melancholic, bittersweet happiness that I do. Parting is such sweet sorrow, but they're proud that their son is getting around to adding more alphabet soup behind his name, and a degree in the UK still gets their peers nodding appreciatively, so they can't complain. A postgrad degree is what everyone is dying to acquire post MBBS, while doctors might seem interchangeable to a layman beyond knowing their age and specialization, the lack of the latter doesn't get you very far in the eyes of your peers or your career.
I certainly wouldn't be getting so many marriage offers if I hadn't proven that I have some degree of academic competence, at least not from the parents of other doctors, though that's partly because until you've got that locked in, the rest of your life looks an interminable grind getting there.
Cheers to you, not that I can drink on duty. I can use a continental vacation at some point, and a beer, dearly.
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